The Truth in the Illusion
by Vema
Summary: *SPOILERS FOR SEASON THREE* Norman's confession of attraction to his Mother begins a chain reaction that will change their relationship forever. WARNINGS: Incest and graphic sex, possibly gore if you're. squeamish.
1. Chapter 1

The Truth in the Illusion

Chapter One

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I'm ready to start posting my second multichapter Soul Bates fic! This one will be a lot more angsty and more disturbing than "The Love Song of Norman Bates", just as a warning.

I just wanted to give a shout out again to **ALittleTasteOfMadness**. She has been so supportive and amazing, and she spurs me on to write more fanfiction every day. So, this fic is dedicated to her! Thanks for being my muse, sweetie!

For those who haven't figured it out, _**THIS STORY CONTAINS GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF INCEST**_. Please, if that isn't to your liking, do NOT read this story.

Without further ado, here is chapter one. I'm very happy with what I've written so far, and I really hope everyone enjoys reading it!

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Sleep was elusive.

Norma lay on side next to her sleeping son, watching his chest move up and down slowly. Norman's dark eyelashes stood out against his pale skin, his lips slightly parted and rose-colored as he breathed deep and even. He looked so peaceful and sweet there, it was hard to imagine that only hours ago he was sitting with his back turned to her and confessing his impure thoughts, and she felt herself drawn to him as a moth to flame.

She had been so sure that she was the only one struggling with this, that Norman was completely and blissfully ignorant. It had to be only her. She had to try to make him okay with it, make him feel it was a normal, transitional period.

Surely other mothers and sons had these kind of difficulties... didn't they?

Norma's mind was awash with unwanted images. She couldn't identify when exactly she'd started having inappropriate feelings for her youngest son, but she remembered squashing it down many times.

He'd joined the diving team temporarily when he was fourteen, and she'd fidgeted watching him exit the pool, water sliding down his newly muscled frame. When he was sixteen, he'd offered her a shoulder rub that was absolutely heavenly, but she had shooed him off with embarrassment as she felt goosebumps rising at his touch.

It wasn't until she had seen him masturbating in the shower later that year that she'd become conscious of her awful desire. The sound of the water covered the sound of the door as she entered. The curtain was open enough to allow her to see what he was doing; his head was thrown back and his mouth was open as his hand abused his red cock.

Frozen by surprise and sudden arousal, she stood there and fantasized about dropping to her knees and wrapping her lips around him, about the stunned look that would surely light his features and the noises he would make. She didn't move until he shuddered and groaned, shooting white come over his fingers.

She disappeared noiselessly back into the hallway, mind racing and she went to hide in her bedroom. She had stayed alone in there for an hour as she tried not to think about the intense urge she had felt to touch him, until finally giving in and indulging herself with elaborate fantasies. She touched herself instead of him.

Thinking of that now, Norma felt wetness gathering between her legs and moaned softly. She couldn't let him know of her perverse thoughts, but maybe she could relieve some of her own tension. It crossed her mind that maybe she should leave the room, but she still pushed a hand into her pajama bottoms, letting her fingers find the already slippery and swollen nub between her legs. She teased herself with light strokes for a moment before positioning her fingers on either side of her clit and flicking them with purpose. An almost inaudible gasp left her, and she bit her lip to try to keep in any other noises. Was he thinking of her, she wondered, the day she'd seen him pleasuring himself?

She was quite suddenly aware of an unexpected and telling bulge in the blankets; Norman sighed and shifted, his erection even more pronounced than before as his hips moved. He must be dreaming... The image of his flushed length flashed in her mind and all her air rushed out of her. Worried she might lose herself and reach out to him, she turned on her back, pushing her pajamas and panties around her knees before turning away from him and resettling her hand between her own legs, thinking to finish quickly. Closing her eyes, she thought of his hands; his lips; the strong line of him, silently asking if she needed his help over and over. He only ever wanted to protect her...

He shifted behind her, and she stalled her movements instantly, holding her breath. He pushed up against her back, hand coming around to grip her arm as he settled. His palm slowly slid down, hand joining hers between her legs, and she gasped. "Norman?" she asked in a hushed whisper, tensing.

"Shhhhh..." His breath skittered over her neck, and then his fingers started moving, encouraging hers to do the same.

Her hips bucked into the pressure they were both exerting as his teeth dug into her ear lobe. She should be protesting, disgusted with herself for allowing this to happen, but she was nothing but enthralled. She gave a choked moan, pressing into him. His still clothed erection settled between her cheeks, and he thrust against her.

It was everything she'd ever wanted; every secret, terrible desire of her heart coming to fruition as her son helped her touch herself and kissed her neck. She had almost been there already, and the newly added stimulation urged her closer and closer until she gave a strangled cry, pushing back into his body desperately as her world turned to intense pleasure.

As she came back to herself, she felt his hand leave her, and he moved a little, shifting. Then, hand sliding back to her core, he pushed against her. The blunted head of the beautiful cock she'd seen before pushed into her heat, stretching her open. He slid into her easily, and they both moaned in satisfaction at the sensation of completion. Having him inside her was better than she could have imagined, and she lost all sense of what she should be doing, pushing back onto his member with a desperate mewl.

"Mother..." His voice was just as dark and desperate, and his hand moved to clamp down on her upper thigh as he thrust in and out, leaving streaks of her wetness on her skin where his fingers touched her.

"Oh god," she responded, a deep need coming out in her voice as he pummeled her body. In moments she was coming again, her muscles clenching beautifully around the sweet intrusion inside her. "Ah.. More, Norman, please..."

He pulled her up on her knees, moving easily behind her and thrusting more forcefully into her. She screamed into her pillow at the exquisite sensation of him pounding into her over and over, body tightening deliciously. Norma didn't think she would come again, but she relished this anyway, listening as Norman lost himself in the pleasure her body was giving him. The his cock hit just the right spot inside her over and over, and she dropped her head to the mattress so he had better access to her pussy, despite her pajama pants holding her knees closer than she'd like.

They were nearly silent again, harsh inspirations and moans intensely loud in the quiet room. The wet slapping noise of his thrusts echoed around them. Norma whimpered into her pillow and Norman merely breathed hard, each exhale coming out in a guttural growl. "Mother," he moaned, his hand landing on her shoulder and pulling her against him fiercely with each thrust. She felt him shudder and still with a grunt, hot semen filling her channel and leaking out around the intrusion of his length. He held himself inside her for a while before slowly sliding out, completely stilling behind her.

Norma let herself relish the complete relaxation washing her body for moment. She hadn't felt so satisfied and blissful for... as long as she could remember. Maybe she'd never felt this way, nearly melting into the bed as aftershocks sent lovely pleasurable pulses through her.

She was so distracted by the unexpected rightness of the moment that she didn't notice at first the complete lack of movement behind her. She looked over her shoulder, trying to see his expression. "Norman?" She couldn't see his face, but he was still totally motionless, and she immediately flipped herself over to see him better. "Norman!"

He was sitting back on his legs, face completely blank and hands hanging at his sides as his eyes focused somewhere behind the headboard. Adrenaline began to pump in her veins, and she came up onto her knees in front of him, grabbing his face. "No, Norman. No," she trilled desperately, pressing her forehead into his and looking into the fathomless blackness of his eyes.

Had he been blacked out the whole time, she wondered? Had he even been aware of what he was doing? She wailed with despair, kissing his cheeks and lips. "Norman, please!" Had she taken advantage of him in his weakened state? She gasped desperately in and out, over and over, pressing him to her and rubbing her cheek against his. She wasn't sure if she was reassuring her son or herself. "It's okay, baby, it'll be okay... It's okay..."

As she repeated that simple phrase, she felt him shift slightly, his arms coming up around her softly. "Mother?" he asked, his tone fuzzy and confused. "What's happening?"

"Oh, Norman." She was devastated, clutching him even more closely. "Honey, I'm so sorry!"

He stiffened in her grasp, obviously beginning to understand the situation they were in; his pants pushed down, hers too as their flesh pressed together, the musky smell in the air, all were telling. "Mother," he choked, pushing her away.

"Norman, it's all right, it's okay-" she began, trying to pull him to her again.

He let her, but his hands clenched at his sides, fingers flexing like he was afraid to touch her. "Mother... What have I done to you?"

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To Be Continued

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	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

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Good evening! :D I've a very happy little Vema! FOUR reviews already! OMG! I'm going to do a little dance! :) As always, **ALittleTasteOfMadness** , your review was a real joy to see! You know you're my muse, don't be modest! LOL. I love how excited you get to read my stories, it's really gratifying to know I can make someone so happy. **Hannigram-13** , thank you so much! I hope the rest is great too! :) **Cleo** , if you like angst, this story is definitely something you'll love. It is ANGST central, LOL. Yes, I honestly didn't know he would black out when I started writing it, and then suddenly I typed it out and stopped like, "What, really?" and ran with it... Finally, oh, **Edifying** , it makes me so unhealthily happy to write it. Join me down here in the darkness. ;)

Chapter two is here already! I hope to have chapter three posted by Thursday night, if I can write fast enough. Things get super angsty in here, and there are some **TRIGGER ** areas for those who might be sensitive to **_NONCONSENUAL SEXUAL IMAGERY._** Please proceed with caution.

Without further ado, here is the chapter! Don't forget to review, I absolutely adore those of you who do!

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.*o0o*.

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He felt like he was dreaming.

The only thing Norman was truly aware of was the blissful feeling of nearing climax. He thought of his mother; her shining hair, her pink lips, the curve of her hip, the hidden sanctuary between her legs. As he imagined how wonderful it would be to lose himself inside her heat, he had a brief impression of calling her name, and his body tightened and erupted.

How could a dream be this real?

Afterwards, all was a a pleasant haze, and Norman floated on a cloud of ecstasy. He slowly became aware of a pressure around his shoulders, and his mother's voice. Something didn't seem quite right... "Mother?" he asked, the arms he was suddenly aware of coming up around her.

She was holding him, he realized, her body pressed into him, and her frantic words reached his slowly functioning brain. "It's okay, Norman, it's okay..." Her voice caught on the last, and he suddenly came back to full consciousness.

The smell of the room hit him first. The tang of sex hung in the air, and he realized his pants were around his thighs, cold liquid slowly drying on his still partially hard cock.

"What's happening?" he asked muzzily.

"Oh, Norman! Honey, I'm so sorry!"

He felt her hold him tighter, and suddenly he was aware of her naked skin pressed against his, and his blood turned to ice in his veins. "Mother!" he cried in despair, pushing himself away from her, mind racing.

"Norman, it's all right, it's okay-"

Letting his mother hold him, he clenched his hands, resisting his intense desire to embrace her. The reality of what must have occurred burned in his mind, and his breath hitched. "Mother... What have I done to you?"

She was silent for a moment, then she sobbed once. "Nothing, honey, everything is fine..."

She was crying again, and he scrambled back, falling off the edge of the bed. He hyperventilated as she turned the lamp on, and the fluid all over her thighs was suddenly shining, damning evidence of his sin. "No, no, no," he chanted, face contorting with horror. His hands scrambled to find his waistband and pull it back up.

"Norman, listen to me."

She was trying to bring herself under control, but he couldn't. He hunched over, covering his mouth as nausea overtook him. Terrible images were flashing in his mind; had he held her down, deaf to her pleas as he used her body? Had she tried to push him away as he forced himself inside her? How many of her screams had he completely ignored? He wept so hard, it felt like his heart would leave his body. "You should have let me die!" he screamed, falling to the floor and curling in on himself. "You should have let me die!"

"Sweetie, no!" She was on the floor next to him in an instant, trying to hold him as her tears fell onto his hair. "No, it's not what you think."

"Don't touch me!" he cried, holding his limbs against himself as he fought every instinct. "Don't let me hurt you again!"

"You didn't hurt me!" she nearly screamed, terror in her voice. "You didn't do anything wrong, Norman, I promise! It was all my fault!"

Finally, finally, he heard her, and he cautiously looked up at her, swollen eyes finding her face with a tiny ray of hopeful confusion. "What do you mean?" he asked quietly.

"I... I couldn't help myself." She lay down next to him on the floor, her relief obvious when he hesitantly opened his arms to her. "Do you remember, when I told you that you weren't attracted to me?"

Her voice was quiet as she spoke, meek in a way she never was with anyone else, and his arms tightened around her. "Yes," he answered obediently, trying to hold back his horror.

Norma was silent for a moment, pressing her face into his neck and taking a few breaths. "We all have crazy impulses," she reminded him. "I had one, and I was trying to get rid of it..."

"What do you mean?" He could feel her hesitating. Finally beginning to calm, to believe her when she said he hadn't done anything wrong, he uncurled and turned on his back, bringing her to lay partially atop him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, one leg landing between his. "What did you do?" he asked quietly into her hair.

"I..." How could she tell him? Norma shivered against him, somehow taking solace in the warmth of his embrace despite her fear. "I was thinking about what you said... About how you said you were sexually attracted to me... And I started to... touch myself." She couldn't go on, and she breathed in the scent of his skin, trying to push down the embarrassment inside.

Norman thought he understood, but he couldn't believe it. She'd been thinking of how he wanted her, and it had.. what? Turned her on? Spurred her to some sort of action? He must have realized somewhere inside and responded while he was blacked out. As he considered it, his mind spun. "But you said I wasn't, that it was... normal."

She whined against his skin, and his arms around her tightened, one hand tangling in her blonde hair. "I don't know, Norman. I don't know if it is. I'd hoped... But... I feel it, too."

His cock twitched as he considered it, that they could have this connection. All his despair and fear fled, instantly replaced with excitement and anticipation. The thought that they felt the same about each other, that they would be together in every sense now filled him with euphoria. Letting out a little moaning sigh, he kissed her forehead. "Mother..." His voice held a shadow of want, a deep and dangerous longing that came bubbling up from his soul.

"But... It can't happen again."

Immediately, his warm and hopeful desire turned to ice in his veins, body stiffening against hers. "Why not?" he asked quietly.

"It should never have happened in the first place," she said, trying to pull him closer bodily as he mentally pulled away. Her lips found his throat, but he could barely feel it in his despair. "It's my fault, sweetie, I... if I hadn't... I didn't mean to. It was a mistake."

His heart split open, and all the hopeful dreams and visions he'd very suddenly begun to have spilled out before they darkened and died. "If that's what you want." His voice was dead.

She took a breath, but didn't answer, trying to hide against him.

Abruptly sitting up, he gently removed her arms from him, looking lingeringly into her face. "I understand, Mother," he said quietly. He stood and left the room as she scrambled up from the floor.

"Norman, wait, you _don't_ understand!" she cried, rushing after him, but his long legs made him faster. "It's not healthy, it's not good for you!"

"Leave me alone, Mother," he said as he closed the door, leaving her in the hallway. He pressed his forehead into the wood. "I can't look at you."

"Norman!" she cried in despair. She pressed herself against the outside of his bedroom door, unable to contain her tears. All she felt was guilt and sorrow, and an intense desire to hold Norman and be held by him in return. "Norman, please, this doesn't have to change anything!"

Inside his room, Norman slid down the other side of the locked door, silent tears streaming down his cheeks. He couldn't respond to her. If he said anything at all, he'd say everything, and he'd want everything, and he'd give her anything she wanted, even when it was too dangerous for her.

She was too precious to risk.

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.*o0o*.

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Norma woke in a cold bed with colder light in her eyes.

She felt an empty place in her heart, made that much emptier by the so-much-more that had been there for a small time in the night. How could she make it better? How could she and Norman go back to the simple parent-child relationship they'd once had? They had moved beyond, and for better or worse, she now knew how amazing, how thrilling, how perfectly fulfilling the sexual relationship she could have with her son would be.

But they couldn't have it, they really couldn't.

She stayed in bed as she heard movement, unwilling to confront Norman yet, or maybe unwilling to confront her own feelings. It didn't matter which it was, in the end.

She heard the front door open and close. It was still several minutes before she slowly got up, heading to the bathroom to shower. As she passed Norman's room, his door open, she paused. His drawers were all open and empty, his bed unmade. With a hollowing heart, she entered and found that his suitcases were missing, his laptop gone from his desk, his closet empty.

A folded piece of paper was on his pillow, and she hesitated before plucking it from the sheets. With shaking fingers, she pulled it open.

 _"Mother;_

 _I will always love you, more than I love anyone else in thisworld. I can't stay here, knowing what we've shared and what we can never share again. I will always be there for you, if you ever need me. I hope you can understand._

 _Yours Always,_

 _Norman"_

When had she collapsed onto his bed? She pulled the blankets over her, burying her face in his pillow and breathing in his scent. "No," she whispered somberly, tears seeping out from her closed eyes. She frantically went for her phone, typing out a quick message.

 _"Norman, please come home."_

Cocooned in Norman's imagined warmth, she waited and waited, until an hour later her phone buzzed in her hand. She lifted it and brought up the message, a lump in her throat.

 _"I can't."_

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To Be Continued

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	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

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All right, this one is going a little slower than my previous fic, mostly because of time constraints. I apologize to everyone, but especially ALittleTasteOfMadness, who has been promised time and again that I would post this soon! LOL.

Four more reviews, YAY! **Raelynn** , I'm so glad you thought so! I was going for that, of course, before the upsetting parts. I think I posted the second chapter right as you reviewed, so I apologize that I didn't include you on the Chapter Two mentions. **ALittleTasteOfMadness** , as usual, your review warmed my heart and made me smile! :D No dying now! And yes, so angsty. It's insanely angsty all over the place. You're going to LOVE IT. And holy crap, **Cleo** , I am so flattered that you think my characterization of Norma is good! I try so hard to make sure they're in character for my fics, even if they do get a little OOC sometimes. I don't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing that it's easy for me to see her side of things... "Total Eclipse of the Heart", huh, **Edifying**? I absolutely get it. "Your love is like a shadow on my all of the time... I don't know what to do, I'm always in the dark..." And, this is one of my favorite karaoke songs! :) Belt it out, baby! LOL

Now then, this chapter is very Norman-centric, though of course we'll get back to Norma's side of things soon. Please let me know what you think, and enjoy reading. :)

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.*o0o*.

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Dylan looked up from the board he was hammering at the sound of a car arriving. It was Emma's little bug, and he hopped down, an intense happiness and excitement coming over him...

...Until he saw his brother exiting the driver's side.

"Hey, uh... Hey, Norman... Emma..." He was confused; what was happening here? A normal visit? Some sort of showdown? Was Norman aware of his burgeoning feelings for his girlfriend? "What's going on? Everything okay?"

"You'll have to ask him," Emma said, coming closer while Norman headed to the back, pulling out two suitcases. The wheels on the cart for her oxygen tank clacked on the gravel as she walked up to Dylan. "He just asked me to bring him here."

Dylan watched his brother come forward, the defeated slump in his shoulders obvious. He looked like he was on the verge of collapse. "Norman?"

Norman dropped the luggage, still staring at the ground. "Mother and I... had a disagreement. I was hoping I could stay here, just for a while."

"I mean, there's not a ton of room. There's a storage area, we could move in a cot..."

Norman suddenly lunged forward, and Dylan was there to catch him, holding him tight. "Thank you, Dylan. Thank you!"

He was crying into his brother's shoulder, and Dylan shot Emma a panicky look that matched her own. "It's okay, Norman." He gripped his brother tightly before pushing him back to see his face miss clearly. "I'm sure, whatever it was that you argued over, you can fix it."

"No," Norman whispered, and he pulled away. "Nothing can fix it. It's over"

Dylan bit his lip for a second, trying to decide if he wanted to know, if he felt comfortable having Norman here, when he was clearly unwell. "What happened?"

"I can't tell you."

"Okay, all right." Dylan put his hand on Norman's shoulder, pausing to give it a quick squeeze. "Okay. Come on, let's take your stuff inside."

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*.o0o.*

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There was a small storage room off the back of the cabin, mostly empty. Norman put his things down, looking at his bleak new surroundings. Still, anything was better than being around his mother, feeling that constant pull, thinking about what they both wanted when she wouldn't let them have it. Thinking of what could go wrong... His phone chirped in his pocket, but he ignored it.

"You wanna check that?" Dylan asked.

Norman shook his head, then felt dizzy. He hadn't slept all night, running scenarios through his head and coming to accept the only decision he could make. The only decision that would keep his mother safe from him.

"I think I've got a cot out back." Dylan seemed to hesitate, looking questioningly at his brother. "You know Caleb is staying here, right? Is that going to be an issue?"

Norman paused. "No, I'll just... I'll handle it."

"All right, be right back."

In a while, Dylan and Norman had set up the little camp bed and covered it with a pad, rough flannel sheets, and blankets. "It gets cold up here, so I hope you brought pajamas and socks along." Dylan smiled, but Norman just stared at the ground. "Hey," the older brother said, voice gentle. "It seems awful now, I know."

"What could you know?" Norman asked rhetorically.

"You think I've never been in this position? Norma is just... You know how she is. She fixates on something, she gets angry, just like when she left the other day." Norman could tell his brother was trying to catch his eye, but he just bent his head lower, ignoring his words. "It won't last long. She loves you. You're different, she'll let you come back soon."

"She didn't kick me out. I left."

"You left?" Thunderstruck, Dylan laughed. Norman looked up angrily, and his face sobered instantly. "After all that trouble two nights ago when she walked out on us? You _left_? What changed?"

Norman fell to his cot, sitting on the edge and dropping his head to his hands. "Everything," he sobbed, body trembling with the emotions he'd been trying to hold back. "All of it... Can I just... Can I be alone?"

"Sure. Sure, Norman." Dylan hesitated. "I'll be outside working on the barn, if you need me."

Norman nodded, and fell onto the musty plaid blanket on top of his cot. The ancient wooden wall drew his eyes, and he stared at it blankly for what seemed like forever, unfocused eyes superimposing the grain of the wood over itself, strange shapes swimming in his eyes.

How long could he do it? How long could he survive with this gaping, raw wound in his chest where his mother was supposed to be? It wouldn't be long; he needed her as a flower needed the sun, and soon he would droop and die for lack of her light.

There was no end to this misery, so his only hope was that he'd become numb. He had believed his mother when she implied their encounter was consensual, but what if it hadn't been? What would happen the next time, when she asked him to stop? He could never risk going back; he might violate her has her brother had, and he could never live with that.

"Norman."

He looked up at the sound of the soft feminine voice, and saw Norma standing at the end of the cot, resplendent in her favorite robe, hair sleep-mussed but somehow still perfect. She glowed. "Mother?" He sounded hopeful and meek. Then, he remembered the message he'd received earlier and pulled out his phone, staring at the words his true mother had sent him.

 _"Norman, please come home."_

Of course. Norma didn't even know where he was, and it was better that way. That's why he'd asked Emma not to tell... though he had no illusions that she might still, after a while.

"I'm here for you," his vision said, bringing his attention back to her. She crawled up over him and lay next to him on the tiny cot, so he turned to faced her. Wrapping her arms around him, she leaned in, her breath a whisper away as she spoke. "I'll always be here for you."

Warm tears slid across the bridge of his nose and soaked into the stained pillow under his head. "You're not real." A lump rose in his throat as he held his phone between them, looking at the treasured words of Norma, wanting him near even now. He so very much wanted to do as she asked. His fingers shook, somehow typing out a long overdue reply.

 _"I can't."_

Closing his eyes, he felt the invisible fingers stroke through his hair, invisible lips kissing his neck. He let himself pretend he was home with a mother that loved him every way possible, let himself quietly cry.

"Shhh... Go to sleep, baby. I'll stay."

It was easy now. The last thing he was aware of was the flowery-sweet smell of her perfume, and the sensation of her lips lightly brushing his.

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.*o0o*.

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After two days alone with Gunner and his constant pestering to make sure he was okay, Norman was happy to see Dylan back. Dylan and Caleb had left the previous morning to make some sort of delivery. He didn't understand the lost look in his brother's eyes, or the barely contained fury in Caleb's. He followed Dylan inside while the older man stalked of into the woods without an explanation. "What happened? What's wrong?"

Dylan always wore his heart on his sleeve, and Norman could see how troubled he was. "It's.. The delivery, it didn't go through. We didn't get any money. I'm lucky to be alive."

"What happened? What do you mean?"

Dylan briefly explained the showdown between the two of them and the men to whom they were supposed to be selling the guns. Norman finally felt something in his numb heart; relief that his brother was all right, and an upsetting amount of gratitude towards his uncle. They ended up sitting in two rusty chairs in front of the small marijuana plants still under grow lights in the cabin. "The money wasn't that important, right? It looks like you've got enough to finish up here."

"The money wasn't for the farm," Dylan said quietly, eyes darting away from Norman.

"Well, what was it for?" Norman asked curiously.

It was several moments before Dylan answered, and when he did, it was with an incredibly guilty look. "It's for Emma. Her dad... he says he can get her a lung transplant, for the right price."

There was a moment of silence. Norman took in his brother's panicky desperation, and shocked realization came over him. "Oh... I... uh..."

"I'm so sorry, Norman, I know you're dating her, and I won't do anything about my feelings, I promise. I wasn't even going to tell her about the money, I just want her to be... I want her to be well."

Norman was quiet again, staring back behind Dylan's head as he considered things. Suddenly, his mother was standing behind Dylan. "You deserved better, Norman. She never really wanted you," she said, voice harsh and eyes piercing.

"I never really wanted _her_ ," he responded, thinking of who he _had_ wanted and gazing on her beautiful face.

"Huh?"

Refocusing, Norman met his brother's confused eyes. "I mean, she's not my girlfriend, not anymore," he said, smiling. "You go for it, she'll be a lucky girl."

Dylan look confused, a half smile crossing his face. "What, are you serious?"

"Yeah, I'm serious this time. I want you both to be happy."

"Oh my God, Norman, thank you!" Dylan lunged across the couch and caught him up in a hug, which Norman returned as they both chuckled happily. "Thank you!"

"Just remember, you have to name your first born child after me."

The two brother's laughed for much of the rest of the evening, as Dylan enlisted Norman's help in plotting out the actual field. They worked happily until nightfall, at which point they and Gunner started a fire and gathered around for some camp-style food.

It was hours later, the three of them still gathered around the smoldering embers, that Caleb came tromping back from the dark trees. As he came closer, the low light of the dying fire illuminated him enough that they could make out the dark liquid soaking his whole front, and he threw two plastic bags full of cash at Dylan's feet that were spattered in red. "Fifty thousand dollars. It's your money. It's what we were owed," Caleb said gruffly. "Get that girl her operation."

Norman stared at his uncle in surprise and fear, and Dylan spoke first. "Did you... Did you kill him?"

Caleb tried to wipe his face on his sleeve, avoiding Dylan's gaze. "Don't ask things you don't want to know," he growled. The older man stomped off to his van, disappearing momentarily before he reappeared carrying a bottle of lighter fluid, a lighter, soap, and fresh clothes. "I'm goin' to the river to clean up. Be back soon."

"Dylan," Norman asked shakily after Caleb and shuffled off into the darkness again, "What are we going to do?"

Dylan looked torn, but in the end, he set his lips grimly. "Chick deserved it. We're going to take this money, save Emma, and..." He swallowed, thinking of Norman in a periwinkle blue robe, eyes alight as he prepared French toast. "...And we'll save some of it to help you with your blackouts and getting a place of your own."

Norman looked askance at Dylan. "Help me with my...?"

"Yeah, come on, there's gotta be _something_ the doctors can do, right? Medication, therapy, something?" Dylan smiled, grabbing Norman's arm. "We'll get you sorted out and into an apartment, and you can get a job and just be a normal adult."

Norman could almost see it, a future where he didn't black out anymore, where didn't do things he couldn't remember, where he was happy and healthy and normal. The only difference from Dylan's vision was that his mother was there with him.

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To Be Continued...

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	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

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I post this chapter tonight for **ALittleTasteOfMadess** , my soulmate, my muse, my sweet. I'm making a big deal of it now, but every chapter is written with her in mind. She is so loving, so compassionate, so gorgeous, and the world is a better place for her being in it. I hope you enjoy this, my love.

Now for my reviewers. **ALittleTasteOfMadness** , you are the sun in a dark night. Thank you so much, for the review, and the various encouragement outside of this site. You have told me that you love me, and it is returned exponentially. **Cleo** , I sincerely hope this chapter helps satisfy your need for Norman and Caleb interaction, though there will be more later. And yes, that was one of the things that bothered me about the third season. "Oh, here's $30,000 extra dollars, let's just throw it away without any other thought!" Makes no sense.

I hope this is a compelling continuation. Please let me know what you think, lovelies!

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.*o0o*.

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Five days, and the house seemed even more empty than ever.

Norma dragged herself out of bed, showered, and dressed, but not before she'd had a shot of whiskey. She didn't bother with food after, pouring a healthy dose of alcohol into her coffee and downing the cup. Norman's empty chair taunted her and she stared at it with haunted eyes before she slammed the cup down and filled it halfway again, this time straight whiskey, and she finished it in one go.

The office needed to be manned, though, and with Norman gone and Emma off to Portland for her lung transplant, it was up to her. She had already taken care of withdrawing from her classes at the community college; after finding out Bob Paris had vanished, she had seen no point in continuing. All too soon, he would give information to the authorities, and she and Norman both would be wanted by the police. What was the point?

Nothing had a point anymore. Her life had ended when Norman had left her.

She finished the last tiny sip of the whiskey in her cup, stashed the bottle in a tote bag that she had on the table, and headed down to the office, struggling with the wooziness in her head as she walked down the stairs. Just one more day, she told herself, and then she wouldn't have to pretend anymore, once they came to arrest her. It would almost be a relief. It couldn't be much longer...

It was three hours before she even had her first customer, and another two before someone came to check out. As Norma waved her out, the sheriff's SUV came rumbling onto the gravel, and her throat closed up. She pulled out her whiskey and took a healthy gulp before stashing it again.

The bell rang as the sheriff entered, and Norma stood expectantly. "Alex?"

"Norma," he responded, staring at her.

He was alone, she realized, no back up of any kind to be seen. "You're not here to arrest me?" she asked, incredulous.

"No, of course not! I wanted to come earlier, but it would have looked suspicious!" He turned and locked the door, flipping the sign to say 'closed'.

Her mind raced as Alex pulled her back into the parlor. "What do you mean?" She didn't understand; there was no way that Bob Paris would spare her, not after what had happened between them. Certainly it was only a matter of time before he would be back to bring her in...?

"Bob Paris won't be a problem anymore. I got rid of him." He looked searchingly into her eyes, warm hands closing over her shoulders. "He's not going to bother you again."

"What?" Norma nearly whispered the question, horrified as her sickening hopes were dashed. She wouldn't be escaping this life so easily... "You.. You..."

"I did it for you, Norma! I did it to keep you safe!" He pulled her limp form into an embrace.

Everything inside of Norma was a dissonant swirl. She was overjoyed to think Norman would be free of trouble, but now, she'd have to continue here alone, managing the motel and pretending everything was all right. Finally, her relief over Norman won out, and she smiled hesitantly. "Thank you.. Thank you, Alex."

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.*o0o*.

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The sun was just setting over the horizon when Norman exited the cabin, heading toward the small fire near Caleb's van. Since Dylan had left to be with Emma in Portland, it was just the two of them and Gunner at the farm. Norman no longer had the buffer of Dylan between him and his uncle, so he avoided him as much as possible. He feared another black out might come over him, and the last thing he wanted was to hurt his brother by doing something to Caleb needlessly. It seemed as if the man really was content to leave his mother be at last.

He sat on the cooler and watched Gunner shifting foil packets around the hot coals with some long grilling tongs. "Hey, Norman, how's it going? Feeling any better?"

"I don't really want to talk about it," he answered calmly.

"Okay, man, no worries."

Gunner went back to cooking the food, but Norman felt eyes on him nonetheless. "Is something wrong?" Norman asked quietly, making eye contact with Caleb.

"Nah, nothin'." He turned away just as Gunner announced the food was ready. Soon, they were crumpling their empty foil and throwing it in Caleb's garbage bin. Gunner asked Caleb to play on his guitar after he'd emerged with a large bottle of whiskey, and and the older man obliged.

Norman lay down on the ground near the fire, crossing his arms beneath his head. The stars overhead were bright and beautiful in a way they weren't in town. As he gazed into the deep night sky, Norman slowly began to recognize songs his mother had sung to him over the years; Perry Como, Pat Boone, Elvis Presley... He felt a pang in his heart as he thought of Norma, then a stab of jealousy as he wondered if she'd sung the same songs with her brother all those years ago.

The guitar strummed a very familiar introduction, and his uncle's soft voice sang lyrics he knew too well. "Mister Sandman... bring me a dream... Make her the cutest that I've ever seen..." His voice somehow made the song melancholy, echoing inside the hollow place inside Norman. He felt tears gathering and sat up, wiping at his eyes.

The music broke off. "Hey, kid."

Looking up, Norman realized Gunner was gone, leaving him alone with Caleb. He wiped his eye one more time. "Yeah?" He answered, defeated.

"You want a drink?"

"No."

They were silent again for a moment, Caleb swishing the alcohol around in the half drained bottle. "I get it, Norman. I get it. ...Norma, man, she's... She's amazing, but she's like the sun, ya know? She'll burn ya." Caleb's eyes flashed in the light of the fire, and he took a huge gulp of his whiskey.

"Don't..." Norman began, dreading what terrible things might come.

"She's beautiful and bright," Caleb continued, ignoring him, "and you'd do anything for her, anything at all, anything to stay there in her warmth, and then she'll blind you. I only wanted to make her happy. I couldn't... I couldn't walk away..."

Holding his breath, Norman turned towards him. This was it; this was the moment that he would lose it and try to murder his uncle. Something he said, his remembrances of Norma, would set Norman off and it would be over.

Caleb took another drink of the whiskey, staring at the ground before he spoke. "But you left. I don't know how you found the strength. You're a better man than me."

Instead of the terrible rage he'd expected, Norman felt pity, and a touch of anxiety. "I love her, but It's not- I never-"

"I know that look." He laughed, smiling despite himself, and the chuckle transferred into his words. "Overwhelmed, lost... I won't say anything, don't worry 'bout that. What happened? What made you leave?"

Norman teetered on the edge of total confession. He still held hatred for this man, his mother's rapist, but it seemed that he was perhaps the only one who could understand what Norman was going through. Still, he could leave part of it out.. he didn't have to reveal the worst of it... "I.. uh... I have these black outs..." Caleb leaned in closer, giving Norman his full attention. "I lose time, but Mother says I do things, things I can't remember... She says I killed my father when he was hurting her. I don't want to black out and hurt her, too." He paused, picking at the grass beneath him as a shaky breath left him. "I tried to kill myself once to protect her, but... She wouldn't let me. So this time I left instead."

Caleb held his gaze for a moment. "A much better man," he repeated, actually clapping him on the back.

Norman fought the tears he felt welling up in his eyes, angry at himself for reacting this way to the kindness of a man he so abhorred. He glanced down, releasing his fists. "Actually, can I have that bottle?"

Caleb handed it over and settled his guitar in his lap again. Norman took a drink that burned its way down into his insides as the quiet strumming picked up again. Staring at the full moon, bright and shining in the dark sky, and he thought of Norma. Minutes, or hours later, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. A message from his mother...

 _"I love you, Norman."_

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.*o0o*.

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Norma took a deep breath as Alex rolled off of her, immediately closing her legs. With a far away look in her eyes, she turned away from him and clutched her pillow. She felt dirty, used, unsatisfied as he rolled to his side to embrace her from behind. The Sheriff felt like completely the wrong size and shape pressing against her, huge and hard like her brother used to, and she closed her eyes for a moment. She remembered Norman pressing up against her in the still of the night, whispering in her ear, and wishing it was his seed she was pressing between her thighs. What was wrong with her?

"Are you okay?" He asked, stroking her side.

"Yeah," she replied slowly, eyes focusing on the roundness of the full moon outside her lacy curtains. She thought of her sweet son, of his devoted presence, and she sighed deeply.

"This just isn't the behavior I'd normally expect from a satisfied woman," he said, pulling her tightly against him. "You're all tense... Do you need me to..."

His hand trailed down her side and slid towards her center, and it was just too much, too similar, and she panicked and sat up on the edge of the bed. "Stop, stop..." She covered her mouth and clenched her eyes shut, suddenly nauseated by the unfamiliar smell of the man in her bedroom.

"Norma, what...?" He moved to sit beside her, a concerned look crossing his face. "I thought we were...?"

"I don't know, I just... I need to be alone." She turned partially away from him, crossing her legs.

"Alone?"

Standing, she plucked her robe from the vanity chair and slid into it, "I'm sorry, Alex. I'm just... I'm in a strange place right now. Please, just go."

She stared in the mirror, listening to the rustling sounds of the sheriff putting on his clothes. "Norma," he said quietly. For a moment, she thought he would go on, but he didn't. She listened to his footsteps retreating, to the distant sound of the front door. She stood, and moved to the window, pulling apart the lacy cloth and staring at the night sky.

Where was Norman? Was he safe? Was he thinking of her now? She pulled her robe tight, tears streaming down her cheeks. She plucked her phone from the nightstand, staring at the various messages she'd sent him without response.

 _"Where are you?"_

 _"What are you doing?"_

 _"I miss you..."_

 _"Please come home..."_

Norma stared at the screen for a while, losing track track of time as she looked over her own messages, many sent days before. before finally typing out a new one.

 _"I love you, Norman."_

Norma closed her phone and moved to Norman's room, staring at the empty sheets where he should be. She still hadn't made the bed; once she did, she'd be admitting he was gone for good. For now, she set her phone on his night stand and moved to the bathroom.

It was easy to wash away the evidence of her betrayal, to pretend she had never invited Alex in, had never let him kiss her and carry her upstairs like some chivalrous knight claiming his reward. The shower squeaked as she turned it off, and she stepped out of the tub, dropping water all over the floor. The steam distorted her reflection in the mirror. Carrying the discarded robe in one hand, she walled back to her room, dropping it in the laundry basket before frantically ripping the sheets off of her bed and stuffing them in after.

How could she have thought that playing with Alex would somehow rid her of the anguish she felt inside?

She made a high, whining noise of desperation, stumbling the few feet to Norman's room, collapsing nude onto his bed and wrapping up in the used sheets. His smell was starting to to fade, but she buried her noise in the pillow and breathed deeply, wishing so much that she knew where he was. A small flashing light caught her attention on the night table.

A text message...

She fumbled with the phone in her haste, bringing it closer and typing in her lock code.

 _"I love you, Mother. Always."_

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.*o0o*.

To Be Continued

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	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

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Having gotten a little more free time over our Labor Day weekend to work on my fanfiction, I'm posting this a bit ahead of schedule. Mostly because it was driving **ALittleTasteOfMadness** crazy as she tried to wait for it... LOL. This one's got a little naughty bit at the end, too. I know how you like the dirty parts. ;) You're welcome, sweetie!

 **Hannigram-13** , I would be honored if made some sort of playlist! To be honest, I usually listen to dark ambient music while I'm writing. For some reason, it helps me focus and evoke what I'm looking for, and those sorts of things aren't usually good for playlists. So, I'd be very excited to see what you come up with! :) I agree, **Cleo** , I was trying to use the song to set the stage for an upset Norman that gets deflated when things don't go the way he expects. And we all know Norma is repeating mistakes she's already made with Deputy Shelby and James and all. You pretty much called a scene in here, so I hope you enjoy it. **ALittleTasteOfMadness** , I was literally IN THE MIDDLE OF WRITING THAT SCENE when you started talking about their chemistry, and I laughed and laughed, LOL. Obviously, that's not my end game for this fic, but you know that. I'm a Soul Bates girl to the end. **Raelynn** , I'm so glad you're still reading! I couldn't agree more. I can tell you they will be back together at some point, but I'm not promising a happy ending on this one. :( Thank goodness you checked in on the fic, **Edifying**! I was kind of worried, thinking you didn't like the story anymore, lol. I hope you start getting the emails again, and THANK YOU for saying I'm amazing. I feel the same way about all of my reviewers, it makes my day to see reviews pop up!

And in reference to **Hannigram-13** 's review, if you're interested in the music I listen to while I write pretty much anything, visit this website (just take out the spaces): cryochamber .bandcamp. com -I'm especially fond of "Cthulu" and "White Silence".

Don't forget to keep reviewing! All the authors on this site live for reviews, so please make their day with a few words if you appreciated their story. I hope you love this chapter!

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.*o0o*.

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Norman left Mr. Decody's shop, feeling a great deal happier than he had in days. Emma's father had been more than happy to offer him a job, having seen the way the teenager's skills had improved over the last year, and he'd briefly returned from Portland to give him the keys so he could get to work. Now, Norman merely had to schedule an appointment with a psychiatrist.

He had no idea how to go about selecting the right one. It had to be someone who was open minded, someone who wouldn't pry too much into his feelings for his mother, or either wouldn't care. He'd been obsessing over that night that he had spent with her, and he was starting to have flashes of memory, of what had occurred between them. He remembered pressing his fingers into her wetness, kissing her ear, and had a brief impression of actually thrusting into her while she begged for more. He hated himself for holding onto these glimpses, treasuring them as if they were precious gifts. It would almost be easier if he still remembered nothing.

As for the psychologist, it was hard to judge, based on advertisements, but he'd done some research on message boards and chosen a doctor. He walked a few blocks to sit on a bench, shivering in the chilly morning air, and dialed a number.

He listened apprehensively to the ringing on the other line, the held his breath as the line connected. "Hello, this is Dr. Arlene Roberts, licensed family psychiatrist," came the low, calming tones, and he breathed out, realizing this was an answering machine. "I can't take your call right now. If this is a medical emergency, please dial 911. Otherwise, please leave a detailed message at the sound of the beep, and I will get back to you. Have a lovely day!"

The beep sounded, and he felt apprehension again. "Hello, uh... This is Norman Bates. I'm looking to begin treatment for... some sort of fugue disorder, I suppose. I don't..." he paused, beginning to panic. He was no good on the phone. "I don't have insurance, but.. I have black outs and I'm afraid I might hurt someone I love. I can't.. I can't hurt her. I can pay you directly. Please call me back..." Norman recited his phone number, voice almost a chant as he clung to something familiar. "So, um... yes. Please, please call me back. Thank you."

Hitting the button to disconnect, he breathed out, berating himself for how awkward he'd sounded. He was never any good on the phone; that's why he always preferred texting. He pulled up the messaging center and typed out a quick note to Gunner asking him for a ride, and he responded quickly that he was on his way to meet Norman at the coffee shop on Main Street.

Before he'd finished putting away his cell phone, it began to vibrate, and he felt anxiety coming over him again as he recognized the psychiatrist's phone number. He fumbled to answer. "He-hello?"

"Hello! This is Arlene Roberts. Is this Norman Bates?"

"Yes! Yes, I'm Norman." His tongue felt useless in his mouth; talking on the phone seemed even more embarrassing than talking in person did to him sometimes. "Thank you for calling me back."

"Absolutely! I just wanted you to know, I can certainly work with you on cost. I'd like to schedule a initial session with you." Arlene paused here, and he heard a strange noise on the other end, like pages being turned in a book. "I've got an opening tomorrow, at two in the afternoon. Could that work for you?"

"Uh... yes, yes. It could." Norman licked his lips apprehensively. "I'm a little nervous, honestly. The last time I spoke with a therapist... it didn't exactly go well."

"That's no problem," she responded kindly. "Sometimes it takes a while to find someone that's a good fit. We'll just see how we get along tomorrow and make a plan from there. Does that sound fair?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Okay, Norman, here's my address..." He took the information down and bid her farewell, heading to the coffee shop to meet Gunner.  
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.*o0o*.

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"Norma, look at me!" Sheriff Romero gripped her arm, too frustrated to stop himself.

Norma turned, blue eyes piercing into his. "Let go." Her voice was icy, muscles tensed for a fight. She'd simply been walking down the street, having visited her favorite liquor store to purchase the expensive whiskey she preferred. It had been over a week since she'd invited him into her bed. Although she had heard Alex yelling her name, she kept walking, hoping he would take the hint that she wasn't ready.

He hadn't, of course.

"We're going to have to talk about this at some point," he said, voice low. His hand stayed clamped around her bicep, preventing her from leaving.

Norma grimaced. She had not considered their coupling since that night, except to regret it. It wasn't fair to her, to Norman, or to Alex, not really. "There's nothing to talk about," she said coldly. "Let go of me."

They stared at each other in silence, pedestrians giving them a wide berth, seeming to sense the tension. His fingers slowly slackened, and she shook her arm loose of his grasp. "Have a good day, Alex," she said sternly.

"You can't just pretend it didn't happen, Norma!" he said angrily, calling her attention back. He looked from her to the little coffee shop next to him, considering. "Look, can't we at least get a drink and... I don't know, talk about us?"

"No, Alex," she protested, wishing she had never gotten herself into this position.

A presence seemed to materialize at her back, and she heard a familiar and beloved voice behind her. "What seems to be the problem?" Norman's fingers slid up and over her shoulders, hands clasping her flesh and steadying her. Her body tightened immediately, nearly vibrating with her excitement as she realized her sweet boy was there with her, within reach.

"Nothing, Norman, I was just hoping to speak with Norma for a moment."

The sheriff was oblivious to the tension between them, and Norma frantically searched her brain for a way out. "Well, actually, Sheriff Romero, I was meeting my mother here for some coffee myself. We need to go over some personal things, if you don't mind."

"Yes," Norma said with relief, turning to finally see her son and gripping his hands tightly as wetness gathered in her eyes. His face was more precious than ever. "You were late! I thought maybe you wouldn't make it."

"I'm sorry, Mom. I was leaving work and had to make a phone call." His eyes seemed to drink her in, and she felt herself leaning forward, drawn to him as he looked down on her hungrily. "Maybe we could go for a walk instead?"

"Of course!" she smiled, a little too relieved. "I'll call you later Alex?" It was the best she could offer him at this point.

"Yeah, sure, whatever." He turned away, huffing, and headed back to the station.

Norman and Norma turned and began walking, arm in arm, out towards the city park. After a few steps, Norman's hand squeezed hers. "What was all that about?"

She didn't answer right away, head spinning. It had been two weeks since she'd seen him, and here he was, like nothing had happened, nothing at all. When she thought he might know about her spontaneous tryst with Alex, her heart hurt; he couldn't know. "Nothing. Just an argument. Where have you been?"

"Around. I don't think it's a good idea that you know exactly yet."

He sounded too calm, but his words irked her anyway. "You don't get to decide what's good for me!" she snapped back.

They walked further, around the paved trail to the edge of the trees where they disappeared from sight. "That doesn't matter right now. What did the sheriff want to talk about? What did he mean?" Norman pressed, releasing her hand so he could pull her against him as they slowed. The tension in his muscles belied the effort it was taking to control himself.

"Norman..." His name was a plea from her lips. How could she feel as though she had betrayed him, when they weren't..? He was her son, she told herself firmly. No matter what else had passed between them before, no matter what came after, he was her son and nothing could ever change that. She didn't want to hurt him... "Don't. Please."

"Did you fuck him?"

Her gasp was loud in the thick silence of the trees, where only the wind and leaves were audible. She stopped, and he turned to face her, eyes searing into her soul. "Why- why would you ask me that?"

"I know you, Mother," he said darkly, advancing on her as she tried to step back and holding her startled gaze. "How long was it after I left? Were you that desperate to forget what it felt like to have me inside you?"

The feel of solid tree trunk behind her brought her to a halt, and she gasped as he caged her in with his arms. "Stop it. Stop it!" But did she really want him to stop? She thought of that night, of how overpowered she was by her love for him, of the deep satisfaction of having him in every way imaginable. Now, here he was was, fully possessed of himself and pressing her between his heat at the tree. Trembling, she felt arousal slick between her legs.

"I could make you feel it again..." His breath tickled her skin as he leaned forward. "I remember, Mother," he said quietly, and she closed her eyes and swallowed a moan. "It's been coming back to me, bits and pieces. I never want to forget."

All her willpower fled in the face of her desire for him, and she melted into his lean frame. "Norman..." she groaned. Just as she gave in, he was suddenly off of her and clutching his head. "Honey?"

"I have to go." He was weaving on his feet, shaking his head as though to clear it. "It's not safe."

"No, wait! Don't go, not again!" She tried to chase after him, flashing back to when she'd gone after him as he tried to end his life. This time, he didn't trip, but she did.

By the time she'd regained her feet, he had reached the main road and was gone.

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.*o0o*.

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Norman ran and ran and ran.

It was imperative that he get as far away as he could from his mother before he blacked out. He ran out of town, down the road, into the woods, as far and as fast as he could, and when he couldn't run any further, he collapsed in a heap on the forest floor, his breath slowly returning to him.

"Why'd you leave, honey?"

The dulcet tones washed over his ears, and he abandoned himself to his own mind, desperate for some kind of release. He looked up, and there she was; pale hair glowing, red lips shining, dainty straps of her sun dress slipping down her shoulders. "Mother..." he said desperately.

"Don't worry, Mommy's going to take care of you." She knelt beside him, trailing her hand from his cheek to his chest. With painfully slow motions, she straddled his legs and touched her fingertips to his belt buckle.

His breath hitched again as she began unbuckling it, slowly pulling it apart. "But you don't want-"

"Of course I do, sweetie." With a sly little smile, she popped the button on his waistband and slowly slid down his zipper. He was mesmerized by her movements, by her presence. "I've always wanted you."

He stared at her hand pulling his member out as the cold air hit his newly naked skin. "You said you didn't."

"You know better than that," she murmured. He watched her ruby lips wrap around him and closed his eyes, giving in to his delusion.

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To Be Continued

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	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

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Oh, happy day! I'm going against my better judgment and posting this before I feel ready! LOL I just had to bite the bullet and do it. I really overthink my writing sometimes...

Reviewers, ahoy! As usual, **ALittleTasteOfMadness** was one of my first reviewers! Of course, you already know how amazing you are, but in case anyone else doesn't... This girl rocks my world. She's so excited and supportive and I just can't explain how much I _ADORE_ her for that and so many other things... Thank you so much for everything you do! Also, everyone thank ALittleTasteOfMadness for the lack of Normero in coming chapters; when I suggested more Normero, she was very displeased and I completely changed the story line. **Raelynn** , I am CERTAINLY glad to hear that! The world needs more Soul Bates shippers! Perhaps you could write your own fic sometime? *hopeful expression* Our unnamed **Guest** left a hilarious and positive review; thank you so much for the praise and the laugh! **Edifying** , OMG, I am more than flattered by (and probably undeserving of) being your favorite author! But it is higher praise indeed to know I made you spill your tea, LMAO. I'm so sorry! Oh, awkward Norman is precious, isn't he, **Cleo**? Don't worry, there won't be much Normero at this point (see above). I fully admit, Norman is one of my favorite characters to write, and I love writing him. I just love your insightful reviews! **Hannigram** , my dear, I appreciate your playlist so much! I am going to private message you so you can give me the link, there are some tricks to it.

All right, here we go, an important chapter! Don't forget to let me know what you think! You are all awesome!

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.*o0o*.

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"Norman?"

Was someone saying his name? He felt heavy and tired, like he'd just had a very long and deep sleep.

"NORMAN."

There it was again... He really should respond, but he sort of liked it here in the dark. Everything seemed so much simpler...

"Norman, come on, kid. Wake up." Someone was shaking him, and quite vigorously. " _Norman!"_ He felt a slap across his cheek.

"What's wrong with him?" Was that Gunner?

"I dunno. Let's sit him down here for a second while I think."

And there was Caleb, he definitely recognized that voice. He slowly came back to himself, blinking as he began to see the farm materialize in his vision, and Caleb towering grim before him with his hand covering his mouth. Gunner was slightly behind, looking scared. "Hey... uh..." Norman started, rubbing his face.

"Oh, Norman, thank God," Gunner gushed.

"What... What happened?" Norman asked, willing his mind to clear faster.

"I went to pick you up at the coffee shop, but you weren't there," Gunner began, "And I waited for a while, but then I started driving back this way and looking for you. That was hours ago. You just came wandering out of the woods, all covered in leaves and stuff, and you wouldn't respond."

Norman tried to piece together what had happened in his mind. He'd walked to the coffee shop, intercepted his mother and the sheriff... The last thing he remembered was pushing his mother up against a tree... And here he was, pants undone, covered in leaves and dirt from the forest floor...

Panicking, he felt for his phone in his pocket. He found it and stood, running off to the edge of the trees despite his companions protests and dialing his mother's number. He felt like he waited forever while it rang and rang, and finally... "Oh, Norman, are you okay?"

"Mom," he sobbed. "Mom, what happened? What did I do?" When silence met his question, he wailed again, "Oh, God, oh, god..."

"Norman, stop it." She sounded angry, and a little frightened. "You didn't do anything wrong. We were talking, things got... got a little... and then you ran off. I didn't know why you ran, and I was worried about you, but you didn't do anything."

"Are you sure?" he asked meekly.

"Of course I'm sure, what kind of question is that? Honey, this is silly, please just come home. Please. I miss you."

In his mind, he could still see the horrible picture of what might have happened if he hadn't run away as she'd said. "No, I can't, not yet." If anything, this occurrence had only strengthened his resolve that he would only return once he had control of himself.

"Norman, please..."

He heard the tears in her voice, and it made him want to cry with her. "I want to," he whispered desperately. "I want to so bad, Mother. I feel like... like part of my heart is missing."

"Me, too, baby. I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry about what happened." His heart twinged, thinking she regretted their one night together. "Just come home."

He could feel his resolve starting to waver. "Not yet. I have to go Mom. I love you more than anything. Goodbye."

"Wait-"

He disconnected without letting her finish, afraid of what he would agree to do. Staring at the phone, he gathered up his courage, reminding himself that this was the only way to be sure she was safe from him. Turning, he was startled to find Caleb standing near. "So- sorry for giving you guys a scare," Norman stuttered, disconcerted to see him so close and wondering what he'd heard.

Caleb's eyes bored into his, and when Norman tried to move around him, Caleb blocked his path. "Norman, do you remember the first time we met?" he asked unexpectedly.

"What are you taking about? You mean that day Mother brought us out here?" He was still keyed up from the fear he'd felt earlier, and despairing at the same time. His uncle's question seemed irrelevant.

"No, not that. At my hotel? The first time I came to town?" Caleb reached out to grab his shoulder, his alcohol-laden breath hitting Norman square in the face.

"What?" Norman wracked his brain, remembered visiting the hotel Caleb was staying at with Cody, but not actually encountering him. He concentrated hard; he had arrived home, heard his mother and Dylan fighting, and then... woken up in Cody's car, where she told him he'd blacked out. "Oh, no... I didn't..."

"Yeah, you did." Caleb took him by the arm and began to lead him back to the farmstead. "It was.. Man, it was seriously fucked. You don't remember at all?"

"No... I'm sorry." Norman felt his face flushing as he wondered what had happened.

Caleb, who was already drunk this evening, led him back to the chair on the porch. Quickly doing up his fly and buckling his belt, Norman sat and looked up expectantly. "You introduced yourself, I think," his uncle began, sitting on the table next to him and having a healthy swallow from his flask. "But then you started talking 'bout... weird stuff." Another drink as he shook his head. "Not gonna give you details, but I'm pretty sure you thought you were your mom, kid. And you pulled a knife on me an' tried ta stab me with it."

Norman felt all the blood draining from his face, imagining what it must have been like. "I thought I was my mom?"

Draining the whole flask and shaking it sadly, Caleb wiped his mouth and continued. "Yeah, you were sayin' you were my little sister or somethin'. It was... I didn' know what to think, ya know? Now, now I get it. It's like you said the other night, right? You black out and you do things...for her. You tried to kill me to protect Norma. Just like you did your dad." Standing, Caleb through the flask down. "Fuck, not enough whiskey in the world for this conversation."

Norman stood too, staring off into the distance. "I think... I think I need to lay down for a while."

The boy stood and slowly stumbled into the cabin, desperate to be alone and think. "Don't worry, baby." With a start, he turned to the corner of his small room, seeing his mother standing in the corner. She looked too exquisite, too perfect, and she was wearing the same pajama set she'd been wearing that fateful night they had consummated their love. "You didn't do anything wrong."

This time, he fought it, facing her and forcing himself to remember she wasn't really here. "I might still, if I go back. Leave me alone." He turned to the opposite corner and began removing his clothes.

"That's not what you said earlier."

He felt fingers trailing down his back, and he shivered. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'll remind you..."

.

.*o0o*.

.

Doctor Arlene Roberts had made sure she had at least two hours to devote to her newest patient, who should be there shortly. A new, fresh stack of intake paperwork was on her clipboard, and she had a new notebook with his name on it ready to record notes from their sessions. Based on the boy's short description, she guessed they were looking at a mild case of schizophrenia, but she was prepared for anything.

Right at two o'clock, there was a brief, polite knock at the door, and it cracked open. "Hello? Dr. Roberts?"

"Yes, come on in!" She stood and waited for the lanky youth to enter. "Norman Bates?" she asked, holding out her hand.

"That's me, Norman Bates," he said. His eyes darted around the room; she could tell he was nervous. "Thank you, for agreeing to see me. I really appreciate it."

"It's no problem, Norman. Here, sit down." Arlene gestured to a cozy looking armchair and handed Norman the clipboard. "Please, fill out those quickly. No need to bother with the sections on insurance, of course." As he filled out the forms, she poured tea into two cups, setting one next to him.

"Oh, thank you," he said quietly, accepting the cup.

She observed him as he wrote, taking in his tiny mannerisms, the little ticks that showed his discomfort. "It was very brave of you to come here, Norman," she said quietly.

"What do you mean?" He looked up.

"It's so hard to admit you need help, but you did it."

Setting the clipboard aside, he took a deep breath and leaned forward. "I told you why," he said quietly. "I need to keep someone safe."

"Yes, you mentioned that in your message. Who is she?"

Now he looked even more uncomfortable. "It's my mother," he said finally, "I love her so much, and I don't want to hurt her, ever."

Arlene began to write, trying to make it an unobtrusive as possible. "And why do you think you might hurt her?"

"I have black outs," he said stiffly. "I mostly can't remember what I've done during them, but I know I've been violent..." He told her how he'd found out about this blackouts, how he'd killed his father to protect his mother.

She listened. She listened to the way his voice caressed his descriptions of his mother, how it dropped with disgust when he spoke of himself. She saw how tears gathered in his eyes. He must have never let himself speak of this, and it all came rushing out. She took notes as quickly as she could, especially as he began to describe his hallucinations of his mother.

It was becoming clear that his whole world was centered around his mother. She paused. This was something they would absolutely need to address... but not today.

A little over an hour later. she stopped and put her notebook down. "Well, Norman, it seems like... I have a good grasp on what you're going through." She pulled out her prescription pad, quickly scribbling across it. "I want you to try this medication. We'll start with a small dose. It should help control the blackouts and hallucinations, but you'll need to keep track of them for me. If you experience any loss of time, please write it down so we can talk about it next week. We might need a higher dosage, or a different medication altogether. It's going to be trial and error."

Taking the paper from her, he smiled brightly. "Thank you so much, Dr. Roberts!"

.

.*o0o*.

.

Norma sat at the kitchen table and stared at the phone in her hand, willing herself to push the green call button. She really did owe Alex a conversation, if not an explanation. It would be so much easier, she thought, if she was really attracted to the sheriff instead of her son...

She finally pressed it and listened to the ringing sound with bated breath. The ring cut off and a short silence followed it, before.. "Norma?"

"Hi, Alex," she said flatly.

"I have to say, I'm surprised you actually called."

She ignored the venom in his voice, getting straight to the point. "I'm sorry, Alex. I used you, and I'm sorry."

There was silence on the other end, then a cruel laugh. "I'm not Zach Shelby."

"No, that's not.." She stopped herself despite her anger. She might not want to be with Alex, but she still trusted him and counted him as a friend. She had to stop herself from revealing the worst of her terrible transgressions; he would never forgive her if he knew who he'd been replacing. "It doesn't matter. I'm sorry, anyway. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"What's going on?" he asked suddenly, and Norma winced, wishing she hadn't given away so much.

"Nothing, Alex. I'm just tired." She rubbed her face. "Can we still be friends?"

Silence met her for a minute. "I'll try."

"Okay, Alex. Have a good night." She disconnected and dropped her phone, looking longingly at the bottle of Dewar's on the table.

It was self-destructive, she knew that. She also knew, as the child of an alcoholic, that she was predisposed to develop that disease herself, and that she should back off, throw away the bottle.

Picking it up, she moved it back and forth, watching the amber liquid slosh inside the glass. She should empty it down the sink. Before Norman left, she hadn't even enjoyed drinking very much, so it was completely obvious that her current need was based on the depression and hopelessness that she felt at her younger son's absence. Norma knew better than to open that bottle.

As she considered this, Norman's beloved face flashed through her mind's eye, and she remembered how easily she would have given in to his misguided advances. The cap didn't resist as she twisted it, and barely acknowledging the burn as she drank straight from the bottle. Life was just too hard sometimes.

.

.*o0o*.

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To Be Continued


	7. Chapter 7

Chaper Seven

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.*o0o*.

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I'm so sorry it's taken so long to update this! I've made the terrible decision have three new multichapter fics going at the same time as my others, so please be patient. I really owe some new chapters on my Megamind and Planet 51 fanfics. And there's my actual book that I should spend some time on...*sigh*

Review time! **Edifying** , you are too much sometimes! LOL. Here is your update, I hope you enjoy! As usual, **ALittleTasteOfMadness** , your review is super sweet and intuitive! I know, I was trying for a softer side of Caleb in previous chapters As I've said time and again, I kind of feel bad for him, and I think he has some good points, but I would never trust him again. I'm glad you like the doctor too! **Hannigram-13** , thank you so much! I listened to your playlist, and I really liked it! "Can't Pretend" was just perfect, it's one of my favorite songs! And the Halsey "I Walk the Line" was lovely! I've never heard some of the songs, but I really enjoyed it! You'll be glad to know I was listening to it while I was going through the final edit of this chapter. ;) **Raelynn** , OMG, please! I love reading Soul Bates stories, but I've read everything I can find so far! You have no idea how excited I would be! Finally, **Cleo,** I agree, Norma is going to some unhealthy places trying to deal with what's happened between her and Norman. I think I have a problem with wanting to put Norman in awkward positions, lol. But I thought it would be a perfect time for Caleb to talk to him, and it would be compelling for him to panic, thinking he might have lost control and raped Norma.

Okay, that's it for now. This is a transient chapter, so not a TON of action, but leading into things. And since I'm home sick from work I plan to mostly work on my fanfiction, so another chapter might be posted before you know it. ;) I hope you enjoy!

.

.*o0o*.

.

After taking his new medication for a few days, Norman was starting to feel like he finally had his blackouts and hallucinations under control. He hadn't seen nearly as many visions of his mother since he had started, hadn't lost any time at all. He patted the earth down on the little hemp seedling he had planted outside and deep inside himself, he felt a spark of hope. He was beginning to really believe that he would be able to return to his mother, possibly sooner than he could have hoped!

As if to correct him, he turned and found his mother standing next to the little cart that held the next seven seedlings he needed to finish the row. "Marijuana, Norman?" she hissed. "I thought you were my _good_ son."

Having decided to completely ignore his apparitions, he merely stood and pulled the cart over one spot, beginning to dig a little hole to place the next plant in.

"Norman? Norman..."

It was difficult, but he clenched his fists for a moment and then continued, still avoiding glancing behind him.

" _Norman_!"

She sounded as if she was crying, which was entirely new, and he found himself shaking with the desire to acknowledge her presence and stop her misery. He closed his eyes, reminding himself that his mother didn't know where he was and that this was an apparition. If Norma hadn't found him here yet, she likely wouldn't ever, until he was ready to return home. There was no reason at all to pay heed to her tearful cries.

"Hey, Norman, you okay?" came Gunner's voice.

Norman opened his eyes and found both Gunner and Caleb staring at him from their own rows a few feet away. They'd decided it would go faster if they all worked together; Dylan wouldn't be back in time to handle it himself. "Yeah, everything is fine," he answered quietly with a nervous smile. Gunner shrugged and went back to his planting, but Caleb stared at him for a while longer, suspicion gracing his features. "I'm fine," Norman repeated, attempting to get back to work despite the pitiful noises behind him.

"Don't you love me anymore?" his mother wept loudly, and he felt her hands gripping his arms from behind.

Unable to resist anymore, he jumped up, clenching his eyes closed and turning to face where he thought she was. He felt strange, like he had a whole new perspective on his own insanity, and it was scaring him. "Stop it! Stop! You're not real, you're not really here, you're not really my mother! Go away! Get out of here!"

"Norman," came a deeper voice to his side. He turned and opened his eyes, which had been clenched so tightly he saw purple spots as he tried to focus on his uncle. "You're right, she's not there. It's cool, 'kay?"

"He's lying to confuse you," Norma hissed behind him.

"Do you wanna go rest?" Caleb continued, completely unfazed by his imaginary mother's accusation. "Gunner and I've got this last part, it's no problem."

He didn't want to be alone with this false woman his mind had created, but he knew he'd only be a spectacle for Gunner and Caleb if he stayed. "Yeah, maybe I should... I'm sorry..."

"Nah, it's cool. We'll do dinner in a couple hours." Caleb nearly shoved him towards the cabin. "Get outta here."

Norman stumbled towards the cabin, heart dropping as he heard his mother's voice following him. "I'll keep you company, honey. You do need to rest..." He stamped inside, closing the front door and then the door to his storage area behind him. "Now we're alone," she said, and he felt her arms wrapping around him.

"Stop it," he said quietly.

"Stop what, honey?" She pulled his shirt out of his pants and slid her cool fingers up under to touch his stomach.

"Stop this." There was no conviction behind it. He turned and let her slide her other hand into his pants, groaning as she cupped him. "You're not really my mother."

Her hand moved, and he hunched forward with a suppressed groan. "Why does that matter?"

"Because I want it to be her," he said, voice finally strong as he moved away,her hands completely leaving him. "If it's not really her, it's not worth it."

The apparition desisted, to Norman's surprise, and then he was alone.

.

.*o0o*.

.

Arlene gestured Norman into her office, leading her previous patient to the door and wishing her a farewell. She turned and took a breath, thinking over the session they had completed the previous week and gathering questions that needed to be asked before entering. There were many things she wondered about him and his life; he seemed like such a nice boy, it was hard to imagine he had the sort of violence he feared inside him. She found him standing and holding one of her pictures. "So sorry, Norman, we went a little later than I meant," she apologized, moving a little closer.

"Oh, that's fine," he said quietly. "Is this you and your husband?"

Arlene took the framed photograph from him, looking at it lovingly. She was smiling brightly, next to a large man with graying hair and kind eyes. "Yes. His name is Robert."

"He looks quite a bit older than you," Norman observed. She hesitated, and he continued, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."

"No, you're perfectly fine," she said quietly, placing the picture back on her in table. "But we're here to talk about you, not me."

"Oh." He heard the slight reprimand in her voice and was unsure how to respond.

They stood, neither offering more comment, until she gestured to the seat he'd taken previously. "Please, sit. Would you like some tea today, Norman?"

"Yes, of course."

He sat, and Arlene turned to push a pod into her machine. In just a few moments, she handed him a steaming cup. "Here you are, Norman. Lemon and lavender, good for relaxation and clearing the mind."

"Thank you!" Norman took the cup, cradling it like he had last week, and smiled.

"So, how are you doing on the medication?" she asked softly, sitting in her chair.

With a delighted grin, Norman sat up straighter, clearly very proud of himself. "Great! I haven't blacked out once!"

"That is certainly good to hear," Arlene said, grabbing her notebook. "What about hallucinations?"

Norman was quiet at that, taking a sip of his tea and setting it down on the table next to him. "Well... less. But, I still saw her... a couple times..."

She jotted this down, running calculations through her head. "You're on the smallest effective dose," she said quietly. "Let's up it a little and see what happens next, shall we?"

"Whatever you think," he agreed, taking another eager sip.

He was still nervous; there was something he wasn't telling her, she knew that much, but what was it? "Norman," she asked, watching him, "Tell me about the last hallucination you had about your mother."

"Well... I was... gardening..." He was faltering obviously covering something up, although she wasn't sure it had to do with his mother at all. "And she showed up, and wanted my attention. I left so I wouldn't be around my uncle and my friend... but she followed me." She saw him visibly swallow, his eyes far away. "She tried to... to.."

He was silent for a while, a far away look in his eyes. "Norman?" Arlene prompted.

Jumping slightly, he clenched his hands around his tea cup. "I guess it doesn't matter..." he said finally, "But I told her to leave me alone, because only my real mother was worth anything, and she just vanished."

A very specific suspicion was permeating Arlene's brain now, and she looked from Norman to the picture he'd been examining earlier. "Why don't you tell me more about your mother?" Arlene urged, starting a new section in the notebook.

"What about my mother?" he asked, laughing a little.

"I just want to hear you talk about her," Arlene said quietly, trying to appear unobtrusive. "It seems like you only have hallucinations about her specifically. What's she really like?"

He did talk about her. He told her how his mother was his whole world, how she'd always protected him. He told her about huddling in a closet, about staying there alone as his father had taken out his anger on her in his place. There was singing, and dancing, and all encompassing love, and Arlene found herself moved by all he had to say.

"And how do you feel about her now?" she asked calmly. "Has anything changed?"

"She's everything," he said fervently. "She's all I'll ever want." That statement hung in the air, bald and truthful, and he slowly realized what he'd said and tried to amend it. "I mean, not that I _want_ her, she's just...just..." He stuttered and stopped, catching his psychiatrist's gaze with fear in his eyes.

"It's okay, Norman," she said, shifting in her seat. "You can be totally honest with me."

With a deep breath, her patient settled; she could see the mask falling over him. "She's just my mother, and I love her."

Arlene knew it took time, and it was unrealistic to think that this boy would fully open up to her now, in their second session. "Okay, Norman. Okay." They would have to work on it.

.

.*o0o*.

.

Emma settled into her mattress, a short, sharp pain shooting through the only partially healed incisions on her chest. It had been barely a month, but her doctors had sent her home with strict instructions on self care. Dylan stood by her side and pulled a blanket up over her. "Thank you, Dylan," she said, smiling up at him.

"No problem." He smiled sweetly at her, sitting on the edge of the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Great." She pulled him down for a quick kiss, but he lingered and she felt her heart speed up as her toes curled. Pulling back reluctantly, she gripped his hand. "You know what the doctor said," she whispered, biting her lip as she grinned.

"I'm just practicing," Dylan laughed. "Don't worry."

"Emma!" came her dad's voice from downstairs, "Mrs. Bates is here to see you and Dylan!"

"Oh, tell her to come on up!" Emma said excitedly.

It was only a few moments before Norma hesitantly peered around the edge of Emma's bedroom door, a slight smile on her features. As she came around the door frame, her tan trench coat billowed around her to reveal a stylish dusty rose colored dress. "Emma," she gushed, and Dylan moved aside as she hugged the younger woman. "I'm so happy to see you! How are you feeling?"

"Really good!" Emma took a deep breath and let it out, relishing her new found freedom. "It's so strange to not need my oxygen tank," she admitted, "But I think I like it!"

Dylan left the room to find a chair for his mother, and they sat together for a while. Emma explained how the procedure had worked, and found that Norma was less enthralled by her description than expected. She frowned, wondering if this had anything to do with Norman staying at Dylan's farm. After a while, Dylan left to collect some medical supplies for Emma, and the two women were left alone. "Is everything okay, Norma?" Emma asked finally, peering into her face with concern.

"Yes, of course," she said with an unconvincing smile. She smoothed her pink dress with her hands, avoiding Emma's gaze.

With a wry smile, Emma took her hand. "I know something's wrong," she said quietly, astute as ever. "Tell me."

Norma seemed to deflate, her entire body shrinking as she exhaled and slumped. "It's Norman," she admitted quietly.

"You still haven't talked to him?" Emma asked in disbelief. Norman and Norma were so close, she couldn't believe that they hadn't spoken in a month. It was nearly inconceivable.

"I've... I've talked to him..." Norma fidgeted uncomfortably.

"Oh, good!" Emma was relieved; she'd known all along where Norman had gone, and the idea that they hadn't made up yet because of her had been plaguing her every thought.

"We're still... well..." Norma hesitated. "How did you know that Norman and I weren't talking?"

"I'm the one who dropped him off at Dylan's farm," Emma said, confused. "He made me promise not to tell anyone where he was, but now that you know..."

"Of course." Norman picked at the edge of her skirt for a second. She looked at Emma before glancing around the room, distracted and antsy. "I'd actually better head off, Emma," she said, standing suddenly. "I'll be back tomorrow, but right now I have to go."

"Of course!" Emma watched Norma take off, listening to her footsteps and then the door slamming shut. Ignoring her own confusion, she turned and lay on her side, deciding to rest. If she wanted to get back to working at the hotel, she'd need to heal up as fast as she could.

.

.*o0o*.

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To Be Continued

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	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

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.*o0o*.

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Not much to say here, except that I've been unintentionally torturing ALittleTasteOfMadness with this for a while. She's very patient and amazing; I definitely don't deserve you, my love.

 **Cleo** , awkward Norman is ADORABLE. My goodness, I just love it! And keep an eye on the sessions, they're going somewhere. Don't worry, **Guest** reviewer, I doubt I'll ever stop. I'm just too obsessive... And of course, **ALittleTasteOfMadness** , I can't remember how much of this chapter you've read, but I hope the later part is new for you. You definitely deserve some special writing; I adore you.

Now, I want to gently remind everyone that I never promised this story was going to end happily. Not that anything will happen that's too bad, but just something to keep in mind. I hope you enjoy, and don't forget to review!

.

,*o0o*.

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Caleb was shocked to see his sister's old BMW coming up the drive. His mind raced; had she always known Norman was here? Why was she visiting now? He selfishly hoped she had come to see him, though he knew that was a dim hope. The green car came to a stop, and he came forward as he saw her rush out of the driver's side. "Hey, Norma," he greeted her.

"Where's Norman?" she asked harshly, and his heart sank.

"Around back, just enjoying the nice weather," he said carefully. "Should I go get him"?"

Norma made a little whimpering sigh at him before she strode quickly and purposefully behind the cabin. Caleb followed her, wondering what could be in her head that she was so desperate to find her son. He was also concerned that Norman might act on his instincts, as the boy had himself indicated could happen, so he flattened himself against the side of the cabin and watched her approach her son.

Norman was spread out on a blue gingham blanket, eyes closed as she stormed up next to him. "Norman," she said harshly, staring down on him.

Norman opened his eyes, entirely too calm. "Mother," he said, defeat in his tone.

Caleb watched Norma throw down her purse and sit next to him on the blanket, her back rigid. "How could you do this to me?" she said, turning to look down on him.

"Not now," he begged, hands still behind his head.

Norma started to cry, and Caleb's heart ached as he watched her. "Norman, how could you stay away for so long?" she sobbed, and though he couldn't see her, Caleb could imagine the pain and tears on her face. "I thought we loved each other..."

"I love my real mother," he said harshly, leaning up on his elbow. "Go away!"

"I am your real mother!" she exclaimed, voice high and hitching, catching on the desperate emotion inside her. Caleb realized that his nephew thought this was one of his false visions. He wanted to turn away from the confusion and grief, but as he watched her fall down to lay atop Norman, he found he couldn't. "Norman, sweetie, please..."

The boy's hands lifted to try to push his mother off him, but before he could, she was kissing him. Norman gave in instantly, as Caleb's heart turned to ice in his chest, watching the only woman he'd ever really wanted giving herself to her son. Norman still pushed her away, scrambling back, as she knelt across from him. "What- how did you-?"

"Does it matter?" Shuffling closer, she took his hand and settled back on her heels. "I miss you, Norman. I need you. Please..."

"Mom, I told you, I need time..." He sounded terrified, his hands clenching at his sides. "You were there the other day..."

"Norman." His name was like a plea and a promise as it fell from her lips, and Caleb watched her close the distance between them and kiss him softly again. "Norman..."

He looked on with resentment as his nephew pushed her down onto the blanket, coming to rest easily between her thighs as he took her mouth. Norma made a kind of sweet, needy sound against him, something Caleb had never heard from her before. Her legs lifted and wrapped around Norman's waist as she clung to him.

He couldn't stop watching; somehow, he'd always assumed that Norman's affections were unknown by Norma, or at least that she had shunned him because of it. It was clear now that he had been wrong. A roaring, raging beast rose up in his chest, clawing at his insides.

Why would she do this? Hadn't she told him what they were doing when they were kids was wrong? He'd always assumed that had been the only reason she rejected him, but heart pounded as he realized he might have been wrong.

Norman rose up and turned away suddenly, and Norma turned towards him with a confused look. "Norman, what?" her voice was breathless, and her hand reached out to lay on his back.

"I promised," he said sadly. 'I'm sorry, I'm almost ready to come home, Mom, but not yet."

Finally unable to take any more torture, Caleb turned and stumbled away to sit heavily on the rickety chair in front of the house. He'd known, of course, that after his terrible actions in their youth, Norma could never take him back. Still, seeing her with not just another man, but another _family member_ , hit him hard. If being with him had been so _wrong_ , how was being with Norman right? Every kind thought he'd had about his nephew vanished in the wake of this; he felt Norman's great luck in earning Norma's affections as if it were the worst of betrayals.

Shortly he heard footsteps, and Norma stood before him, proud, defiant, and angry. "You knew he was here the whole time, and you never told me?" she hissed quietly.

"He didn't want to see you. I agreed with him." His voice was gruff as he avoided her eyes.

She didn't answer for a moment, silence hanging between them. "This is childish and immature, Caleb." Her voice was like a sword driving straight into his chest.

"Now you know. That's good enough, right?" he whispered. He thought of how he'd be forced to watch her visit her son over and over, wondered how many of those times he'd watch them together, and how many times he'd be able to resist the terrible temptation to torture himself.

Norma turned on her heel and stalked away from him as fast as her feet could carry her.

.

.*o0o*.

.

Sitting on the blanket, mind a whirl, Norman wondered what he'd been thinking when he agreed to see his mother in a few days. Equally curious were the eager kisses she had bestowed upon him; his lips still tingled where hers had touched them, and the ghost of her legs around him was haunting. He'd only ever kissed her once before, when he was in misery, ready to end his life. This time, it was pleasantly different; softer, wetter, more thrilling than shocking...

What did this mean? Norman flopped back on the blanket, thoughts rushing through him faster than he could comprehend them. He ignored his higher reasoning and modesty and opened his trousers, sneaking a hand in to wrap around his cock as he remembered what his mother felt like beneath him. Soft and open, like she had been in his dreams. How far would she have gone, he wondered, if he hadn't called things off...?

The vague but precious memories he had of being inside of Norma flashed in his mind as his hand sped. He rolled to the side and released in the grass with a desperate grunt. It wasn't until he'd regained his breath, staring up at the gathering clouds over head, that he had a terrible suspicion...

What if his mother thought she _had_ to return his affections to get him to come home? He had seen her before with other men, how she used sex to get what she wanted...

Stomach twisting, Norman replayed their last two meetings in his head. In the first, he'd been the one to push things forward, pressing her as his jealousy for the sheriff came to a head. He didn't remember her responding favorably at all to his advances, but then I was sure he didn't remember the whole interaction. Assuming he was correct, and she hadn't wanted him then, how could he explain her behavior now? The only answer was that she was so desperate not to lose him that she was faking an attraction to lure him back.

He turned over to hide his face in the blanket for a moment, shoulders shaking. All his befuddled but happy feelings fled, and in there place was shameful alarm. Somehow, he had driven his mother to debase herself. She was so desperate to have Norman, _her son_ , back that she was willing to do whatever Norman, _the man_ , wanted her to do.

Laying with his head turned towards the forest, he let his eyes lose focus, trapped inside himself.

He was a monster.

.

.*o0o*.

.

As her bedroom door slammed shut behind her, Norma dropped fully clad into her bed, wailing. The knowledge that Norman had been so close this whole time, that Dylan had lied to her, and if she'd bothered to visit herself she'd have found him-

It was too much.

By the time she had control of herself again, her pillow was soaked with tears and her face was blotchy and red. Her eyes felt stung and swollen, and she covered them with a hand. Sitting, she grabbed a Kleenex and wiped her face dry with a few blinks and a sniffle.

Norma had managed to get into her car and drive out to the road before allowing herself to cry. Hastily extracting a promise from Norman to meet her for lunch the following Monday, she had barely made room to be angry at Caleb before making her escape.

Looking back, she cringed. The agony, the torture of Norman believing she was one of his delusions had been too much, and she had given in to her inner desires too easily. She thought of Norman's lips against hers, the long length of his body pressing her down, and his hardness pressing perfectly against her between her legs. The memories filled her up, made her shiver.

A small part of her, the part she believed was selfish, whispered, _It's not all that wrong, is it? He knows what he wants, and you want him, too._

"No," she said aloud, as though denying it would help.

 _Really?_

Taking a deep breath, she deflated. "No..." Gathering up more courage than she'd ever had to use before, she finally pulled out the shining, silvery part of herself that was made up of all the beautiful feelings she had for Norman.

He was her baby, her little boy that had looked up at her with love as she sang him songs. He was her protector, her closest friend and confidant, and somewhere, buried deep inside the chaotic swirl, was a tiny, calm center, glowing more brightly than all the others. He was her lover.

Standing, she took off her coat and hung it on her vanity chair before kicking her shoes into the closet. Before she could think, she was standing in front of Norman's room, staring at his bed. So many nights had been spent there recently, but she didn't often come in during the day, especially not sober. This time, she came and sat on the mussed bed, running her hand over the pillow and remembering a night spent blissfully in Norman's arms.

She was starting to seriously consider spending more nights that way.

Why was she even fighting it anymore? Nothing they had done so far had felt wrong. Dylan had tried to tell her Norman shouldn't be sharing her bed, but deep down inside, she now blew on the tenacious embers that had refused to die. The truth was, Norman should be sharing her bed more. He should be more to her than a son, more than a lover... he was everything.

Judging from his enthusiasm, at least part of him agreed.

Anticipation rose up inside her; now that she had dug deep inside herself, she could confess her feelings to Norman. Surely, if he no longer felt rejected, he would come back to her. She just knew it.

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.*o0o*.

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To Be Continued


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

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.*0o0*.

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Sad news, my friends. I have been slow at writing recently, and I apologize, but it was for very good reason. My father has been sick for a few months now, and Monday night he passed from this world into the next. It has been a trying time for me and my family. I want to say thank you to my dearest ALittleTasteOfMadness, who has been amazingly supportive and wonderful, even though I have had less and less time to spend with her. Things will turn around a little now, my love, but my fics may continue to be a little slower as I work to finish the books my father so believed in.

Now, then, my reviewers. **Edifying** , I promise not to stop, I've only slowed down for a while. You'll see the end of this yet! **ALittleTasteOfMadness,** your reviews are always a breath of fresh air. I love seeing your reactions! We all know Norma and Norman are meant to be, and they will soon, too. :) **Cleo,** yes! It was a punishment for him, and he VERY MUCH DESERVED IT, despite the part of me that feels bad for him. I'm glad you like my portrayals yet again, that makes me very happy!

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.*0o0*.

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The door to Arlene's office burst open, and Norman came storming in, clearly agitated. "Dr. Roberts, I need to talk to you right now!"

She stood, glancing to the patient she had just finished with. "Norman," she admonished, horrified, "This is highly inappropriate!"

"I need to talk to you, it's urgent," he said darkly, eyes wide, wet, and red, and Arlene sucked in a breath, recognizing this opportunity to finally, really connect with this boy. He was shaking, full of suppressed emotions brimming to get out, and she tried to think of something she could do to get them alone for a while...

She already saw the older woman she'd been counseling standing as she considered. "It's nearly one o'clock anyway, Arlene," she said quietly, patting Norman's arm with an understanding gaze. "I'll leave your check in the mail slot and tell Edith we'll have to wait until next week for couples..."

"Thank you, Ruth." She sighed as the old woman left and gestured Norman to the seat, but he remained standing. "Norman, what is it? What's happened?"

"It's Mother, she found me... She knows where I am, and she... I haven't told you everything..." He rubbed his face, smearing his tears around his rosy skin.

His agitation was contagious, but she took a few slow breaths to calm herself. "I know you haven't, and it's okay."

"It's not okay! How could you know?" he shouted, coming closer and leaning into her space.

Arlene held her ground, ignoring his intimidating presence despite her internal fear. She was a short woman, after all, and he towered over her; if he became violent, she wasn't sure she could fight him. "If you want my opinion, you'll have to tell me," she said smoothly. Turning, she placed the notebook she had back in her file cabinet and pulled out another, the one with Norman's information, and then sat in her chair as if everything was normal. She hoped that if she ignored his state, he would calm.

"I can't, I can't..." He didn't sit, but he did fall to the floor, his knees knocking loudly on the hardwood. "Oh, god, I can't..."

"You can. You can tell me anything, Norman. You're safe here." She watched him lift his head, meet her gaze, and felt her victory from the expression on his face. He was too desperate to resist now; and though she had her suspicions, she needed confirmation before she could know how to proceed.

He took a deep breath. "The night before I left," started, voice still trembling, "I... I told my mother..." His fear was nearly palpable, and Arlene wished there was something she could do to help him feel more comfortable. Finally, finally, he spoke again, voice full of shame. "I told her I was attracted to her."

Arlene nodded. "And how did she react?"

Norman's eyes narrowed, a bemused look on his face. "What?"

"I asked how she reacted," she pushed softly.

"She- she said it was normal." After a moment, his face twisted again. "She said it was normal, but it isn't. I know it isn't, and then... and then we... I don't really remember all of it, but we had sex."

"Okay. Why don't you don't remember all of it?"

Finally shocked out of his frantic desperation, he looked offended, as though her lack of concern were an affront. "Why aren't you disgusted by this?"

"Because I don't find it disgusting," she said kindly. "Do you?" When he didn't answer, she stood. "Sit down, Norman. I'll get you some tea."

Norman did as she asked, feeling compelled to continue. He told her everything, feeling a weight lifting from his chest as he finally admitted how he was feeling to someone. As he came to a close, he leaned back in the chair staring up at the ceiling and waiting.

Arlene reviewed her notes. It all made sense now; he was worried he would assault his mother in one of his blackouts, and he clearly believed that she didn't return his feelings entirely despite her confession right after their first encounter. "Thank you for talking to me," she said simply.

He laughed derisively once before looking at her again. "Yes, you're welcome to all my worst fears," he said, but he smiled as he said it, a little disbelieving smile. "I can't believe this doesn't bother you."

"The more important question is whether your relationship with your mother bothers _you_ ," she said.

"Of course it does," he said automatically.

Arlene sighed. "Does it really? Because it seems like the most upsetting part for you is that you might unintentionally cause your mother some sort of harm, not that you have feelings that are sexual for her." She glanced at her coffee table, at the picture Norman had seen during his last session, debating.

"You wouldn't understand," he said petulantly.

"I absolutely would understand," she said, and she leaned forward to take the frame and hand it to him. "Norman, do you remember this picture? You saw it the other day and asked if it was my husband." After he nodded, she went on. "Can I trust you to keep my secret, like I keep yours?"

"Yes, of course," he said, gaze flickering from her to the photograph.

"James isn't my husband. That's just what we tell people. He's my uncle."

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.*o0o*.

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"He's your what?" Norman looked more closely at the picture he was holding, searching their faces without conscious thought and looking for familial similarities. Now that he was looking for them, they seemed all to clear; their eye color, their face shapes, even the thickness of their hair, all were telling.

"He's my uncle." Leaning forward, Dr. Roberts clasped her hands together. "I was given up for adoption at a young age; my mom was estranged from her family, a single, teenage mother, and I supposed she just couldn't handle it anymore. I was raised in foster care, but when I turned sixteen I started looking for her. She was dead, but I found her parents and her younger brother."

"But... but you...?" Norman's mind was racing. He looked on the wall, saw a picture of them kissing on the beach. "I don't understand."

"It just happens sometimes," she said quietly. "It's called Genetic Sexual Attraction Syndrome. It's more common the family members don't meet until they are adults, but it's not unheard of in cases like yours. I met my uncle, who was 29 at the time, and we just... clicked."

Head swimming, Norman leaned toward her. This was it; someone who could really understand him, who would help him understand what was going on inside him. "But that... That's different," he stuttered, grasping at straws, "You didn't know him, you didn't grow up around him..."

"So what? Who's to say we wouldn't feel the same if I had?" With a sad little smile, she lifted her own cup and took a sip before letting the silence hang around them.

Norman's knee jumped erratically as he tapped his foot. "So..."

"He held off my advances until I was eighteen and he didn't have my age as an excuse anymore." Smiling, she averted her eyes for a moment, a little shy.

"And your family?"

"My family..." Her smile faded. "They didn't understand. It didn't bother me that much, but James... It hurt him to leave them. But we did what we had to do. It would have seemed- strange, for an estranged niece and her uncle to move in together. You and Norma have a leg up on us there, it won't be so unusual for you two to continue living together."

Norman scoffed, despair rising inside him again. "I'll stay with her... but it won't be like that. She doesn't want me..."

"That's not true, Norman, and you know it."

"It is. She's just doing it to get me to come home." He dropped his head in his hands, pain emanating through his entire being.

Arlene sighed loudly. "Norman... Tell me again, what happened the night you made love to your mother?"

The words vibrated through him; he shivered, wishing desperately that making love had been what had happened. "I don't... I don't remember all of it."

"Tell me what you do remember."

Norman took a few deep breaths. "I just... it's flashes... Flashes of being... being with her..."

"And in these flashes, was she fighting you?"

Somehow, he'd never thought of that. Norman concentrated hard, thinking of what he remembered of his mother's reactions. "No..."

"Did she tell you to stop?"

"No..." He rethought the images he had, but he remembered nothing but pleasured groans and a single plea for more. "No. She didn't..."

"Did you never think that was odd?"

A sudden awareness of his psychiatrist came over him, and Norman met her eyes silently before looking away.

Her voice was a blessing to him. "You're wrong."

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.*o0o*.

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Walking home, Norman spent some time reviewing what he'd learned. He had run there as fast as he could, and he didn't want to call Gunner to pick him up.

How was it possible, he wondered, that he had been so blind? Arlene had opened his eyes to many things. She and her uncle had lived together for over a decade, happy and free to be who they were; and if she was correct, Norman wouldn't even need to pay the price of losing his brother or friends along the way as long as he was careful. There was still a burning doubt inside him though, and he needed to speak with Norma honestly and calmly before he acted on his feelings again.

As he approached the farm, he reflected on the days events, almost unable to believe it had only been hours since his mother had confronted him behind the cabin. How could he wait almost a week to see her again?

He heard a car approaching and turned to see a police cruiser passing him and continuing on to the farm; heart catching, he took off at a run after it. By the time he arrived, the police officers had exited the vehicle and were grilling Gunner. "Hey, what... what's going on?" Norman asked, trying to catch his breath.

"We're here looking for Caleb Calhoun," one of them said, handing Norman a picture. "He's Dylan Massett's uncle, we understand he's been staying here."

Norman swallowed, wondering what they police were looking for. "He was staying here, but he's gone now."

"Isn't that his van over there?"

He mentally berated himself, frantically searching for an explanation. "Yes, of course, but we haven't seen him in days." Internally, he struggled; why in the world was he trying to protect his worst enemy, the most hated man in the world to him, the man who had raped the most important person in the world? "We don't know what happened to him."

The other officer spoke up finally. "Look... He's the prime suspect in a murder case. Chick Hogan, his wife, and their baby, all three dead and dismembered. We found them in a crude grave, think he might be the one who did 'em."

"Oh..." He felt sick as he looked at the woman's face, images flashing through his mind. "Does he... I mean, is this the first time...?"

"He was found innocent on a previous case because of evidence tampering." She looked kindly on Norman's horrified face. "Just let us know if he comes back."

She began to rummage in her pocket for a card, but before she could find a card, he continued, "Oh, don't worry, I know the Sheriff, I'll call him if I find out anything." The bile in Norman's stomach bubbled as he watched the police cruiser drive away. He may have just saved the worst person he knew from paying for his crimes.

"Norman?" Gunner asked quietly.

Turning, he saw the same green pallor that must be gracing his own visage on Gunner. "Yeah?"

"Do you think... do you think Caleb could have...?"

"Yeah, I..."

As he admitted his suspicion, the door to the van flew open, and Caleb stumbled out, obviously drunk. "They gone?" he slurred, waving his bottle.

"Yeah, they're gone." Norman already regretted lying, eyeing his uncle warily.

Caleb laughed and took another drink before throwing his bottle to the ground. "I gotta get goin'. They'll come back with a warrant for my van an'... you know. Tell Dylan 'bye for me. 'M gonna go see Norma first..."

"No, wait, you don't have to leave-" The door slammed in his face, and dread settled in his stomach. "You could at least give the cops a few minutes head start!"

Caleb didn't pay him any heed, and peeled off down the gravel road without a backward glance.

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.*o0o*.

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To Be Continued...

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	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

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Okay, total disclosure... This chapter took me forever. It was hard to write, so hard to write. AND TAKE NOTE! Serious ** _TRIGGER WARNINGS_** for sexual assault in this; do not read it if you are susceptible to such things.

There weren't a lot of reviews for this one, but to the two of you - THANK YOU SO MUCH! I can always count on my lovely **ALittleTasteOfMadness** to leave the best of reviews; you light up my life, sweetheart! I promise I'm working on the book too, but sometimes I need a break. **Edifying** , thank you for your kindness. I promise, there are scenes at the end of this fic that are calling my name, and I'm going to finish it.

To those who expressed concern, I am slowly coming to terms with the grief I feel about my father. I will never be the same; as his presence in my life molded me, his eternal absence has altered me irrevocably. I am learning slowly every day how to function without him in my world.

Now then, this is VERY long. VERY VERY LONG. I couldn't come up with a good place to split it up, so here it is. Please leave reviews, please please please. I love seeing what everyone thinks of the story! I hope this rollercoaster chapter is as good as I think it is... Enjoy!

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Caleb nearly ran off the road several times, his vision swimming with drink, but after the revelations he'd had today it was more important than ever to see his sister. What he was planning to say to her, he couldn't tell. Perhaps he would confront her about her inappropriate relationship with Norman. Thinking about them sent visions of their embrace flashing through his head again, and he felt his face crumpling and tears flowing down his cheeks.

He watched her silently for a time through the window, watched her cooking and downing a few shots herself. It ran in the family, this need for alcohol, and she was no exception. By the time he stumbled in the back door and found Norma with a partly empty bottle of whiskey, a shot halfway to her mouth, he couldn't decide if he was devastated or angry... or maybe a little of both. He couldn't even stay and try to win her back, he realized as she froze with her mouth open, a familiar tension in her shoulders. "Norma!" he sobbed, shuffling forward.

"Caleb, what- what are you doing here?" She backed away, gripping the neck of the whiskey bottle tight as she moved toward the foyer, but the sway in her step belied the amount of alcohol she had consumed, movements slow and halting. Her eyes kept moving from him around the room, searching for an escape route.

"I've gotta go, gotta get outta town," he mumbled, stopping to look at her, take her in. She was so beautiful, even when she was scared... Especially when she was scared. "Police 'r lookin' for me..."

He watched her grip the bottle in front of her like a shield, confused by her reaction. Hadn't they just had a reconciling a few weeks ago? "Then go, Caleb," she said quickly, completely frozen, as if she was a rabbit being hunted, poised to spring away at the slightest movement.

"What happened to us?" He was suddenly crying again, shame filling him as he tried to hide his face. Despite the intense feeling of mortification, he couldn't seem to stop. "Weren't we happy, once? I loved you, I still love you, Norma!"

""We were never happy," she snarled back.

It hit him in his chest like a blow. He staggered back before lunging toward her with a howl of pain bursting out of the knot in his throat.

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.*o0o*.

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Dread roiling inside him, Norman drove as quickly as he could towards the motel, feeling totally out of place and tiny in the cab Gunner's truck. It had taken him a few frantic minutes to convince Gunner of the urgency, for his friend to let him take his vehicle to try to stop what they were both sure was a murderer if he chose to attack his mother. As he drove, flashes of all the horrible things that Caleb could be visiting upon his mother flashed in his eyes. Suddenly, his vision swam, and he swerved slightly.

"You know what you have to do, don't you?"

He glanced to the passenger side of the truck, acknowledging that he was still seeing hallucinations despite his increased dose of medication. He wondered if it was because of the stress, but quickly shifted his concentration. "Of course I do, you don't need to be here."

"You need to kill him." Her voice was hard like steel, boring into him.

He hit the steering wheel. "I don't need to kill him. You're the part of me that WANTS to kill him."

"Look at me, Norman!" When he didn't, she continued anyway. "You need to get him out of our lives, once and for all, and there's only one way to do that. You know it, and I know it."

Ignoring her now, he swung wildly into the parking lot, throwing the truck into park before it was fully stopped. Caleb's van was also parked haphazardly right in front of the stairs. "Go away," he told her, jumping out and leaving the door hanging open as rain drops nearly froze his hair and scalp.

Mother's voice was shrill and loud behind him. "You fucking kill that son of bitch, Norman! You KILL HIM!"

The sound of a scream and breaking glass drew his attention and he rushed up the stairs, leaving his delusions behind him.

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.*o0o*.

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Shrieking, Norma smashed her bottle into the side of Caleb's face as he charged her, but his momentum still slammed her to the ground, whiskey and glass showering the two them. His weight settled on her and she clenched her legs closed, shards cutting into her back as she tried to wriggle out from under him. "No, no!" she cried, heart pounding fast with fear.

"You just... need to remember..." She screamed as he forced her legs apart, ignoring the pain of the jagged fragments digging further into her skin as she tried to hit him. "It wasn't like you think it was, you just need to feel it again," he growled. His face was red with the effort of holding her down, his voice hard and forced.

She was sobbing now, still fighting, but she could feel the old fog starting to come over her as she escaped from her body, like she had when she was a child. It wouldn't take long, she hoped, and then he would leave. He said he was leaving, so maybe he would get this over and get out if her life. Clenching her eyes closed, she turned her head and tried to ignore his body on her and his breath in her face, nearly unaware of her panties being ripped and focusing on the sting of whiskey in the open wounds on her back. It wouldn't take long, part of her whispered soothingly, and it would be over. She could slink away into the shower, scrub her skin, wash him away down the drain...

Then his weight was lifted, and she looked up, eyes wide and cries quieting. Norma didn't understand what she was seeing; Caleb had staggered back on his knees at her feet, fingers scrabbling at his neck, at a black strap against his skin. She rushed backwards on her hands, and finally saw Norman behind her brother, twisting a belt around his throat with look of hatred and malice.

Relief flooded her, then panic rushed back in as Caleb collapsed to the ground and Norman rose over his prone body, holding the larger man down with a foot to his back. "Norman, don't kill him, please," she cried, watching her brother's struggles become weaker and weaker. "Norman! ...Norman!"

As Caleb stilled completely, Norma sat watching, aghast as Norman released the belt from Caleb's neck and fastened it around his wrists, pinning them behind his back. Then he took off his jacket and tied it tight around Caleb's ankles. Before she could stand, he had his cell phone out and was speaking in a voice that was much too calm. "Yes, there's been an assault at the Bates Motel. Can you send the police and an ambulance?"

"No, no," Norma objected softly.

"The attacker is still here. Please hurry."

As he closed the phone Norma covered her mouth with her hands. "What have you done?" she whined, closing her eyes. "Oh my God..."

Norman turned toward her finally, fear in his eyes. "I called the police! Mom, are you- did he-"

"I didn't want anyone to know!" she screamed finally. "How will anyone look me in the eye when... when they know about... this!" She gestured to her brother with the last word.

Norman stood still for a moment, trembling. "What were we gonna do?" he finally yelled back, adrenaline still pumping through his veins. "Just hide him in the basement and never tell anyone? Wait for him to try to rape you again?"

The words hung in the air around them. _Rape..._ "This is your fault, Norman!" she screamed gesturing wildly. "You should have been here! You should have been... You should..." Her voice shattered like the whiskey bottle had on the last word, and she stumbled forward and let him catch her.

Her tears were soaking his shirt as he tried to hold her without digging the shards of glass in any deeper. Blood was dripping down her back and over his fingers. "I'm here now," he whispered into her hair, knowing it wasn't enough. "I'm here now..."

A sudden bolt of fear shot through her, and she leaned back, tears streaking down her cheeks. "Don't leave again," she said desperately. "Don't leave me alone. Stay here, stay with me, please... please..."

"I'll stay," he promised, and they both heard the approaching sirens. "Mother, you need to know. Caleb is wanted for murder, and I'm almost certain he did it. I'll explain later, but don't ask questions about it, okay? That's what will keep him away from us."

"Murder?" she asked weakly, her voice smaller than it should be.

"I promise I'll explain, okay? When we're alone." He waited for nod. "And don't argue with the paramedics."

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.*o0o*.

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Norman realized later that the idea of his mother not arguing with the paramedics was an absurd pipe dream. "Ouch! What the hell are you doing now?" She tried to look over her shoulder.

"We're just sealing up the biggest ones with glue, Mrs. Bates," the short brunette said, trying to be patient. "You're all cleaned up and this will be easier and faster than stitches, okay? No need for a trip to the hospital, just like we agreed."

"I didn't agree to anything! You be careful back there!" Norma countered, cringing.

Norman smiled slightly as he watched her, relieved that she was acting like her normal self.

"Norman." He turned back to the sheriff, who was speaking very quietly. "I just want to make sure I'm understanding. You came in and found your uncle...?"

"Assaulting my mother," he whispered bluntly. "She doesn't want anyone to know, but I knew you would be able to tell, even if I didn't say anything."

Romero looked very disturbed, turning to look at Caleb, who was now sitting handcuffed against the wall as too officers flanked him. "Is this- I mean, I don't want to be indelicate, but is this the first time he's...?"

Swallowing back bile as he replayed the horrific scene he'd walked in on, Norman shook his head. "No, it's not." He'd always thought it must have been so much worse in his mind than it was in reality, but now he new the truth; reality was a million times worse. He would never get her screams and sobs out of his head, never forgive this man he'd almost started to trust for betraying them all so egregiously, never forget the sight of his mother surrounded by blood, crying as her legs were held open. The only mercy he could find was that he had managed to take Caleb down before he was able to complete his attack.

A warm hand closed on his shoulder, and Norman turned to find the sheriff gazing at him kindly. "Don't worry. I'll handle this. It won't go on the books. I'm sorry you had to see that."

After the paramedic had finished up with Norma's cuts, the sheriff sent her outside with the officers and Caleb. When they were gone, Romero turned to look sympathetically at Norma. "Look... Here's what the story's gonna be. He came here, looking for money or something to steal on his way out of town, and you fought. You tried to stop him, things got heated, and you were injured. Norman came in and helped subdue him. The end."

Nodding, Norma leaned on her son, looking defiantly into the sheriff's eyes and daring him to say something, anything, about what had happened.

"Norma." He stared right back, all compassion. "It's not your fault. You know that."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she insisted.

"All right, well," he nodded at Norman, "We're all done here. Stick to the story, and try to get some rest. I'll try to get him put away for a long time. You take care of your mother tonight, Norman."

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.*o0o*.

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"Don't leave me," Norma whispered.

After Romero was gone, Norma had walked haughtily to her room, grabbed some clothes, and retreated to the bathroom. Feeling out of sorts, Norman had cleaned up the mess as best he could, mind reeling and body trembling with adrenaline and fear of what could have been. He'd found another bottle of liquor in the cabinet and had a drink himself, stopping at two so he still had his wits about him.

By the time he'd finished, the water had stopped in the shower, steam billowing out from the open door to the bathroom. He'd found her sitting on her bed in a black satin chemise, and she had pulled him to stand between her legs, hands gently cupping his face. "Don't leave me," she whispered again.

How he wanted to kiss her now; how he wanted to touch her and take away the memory of the violence she'd experienced tonight... He could imagine it; slowly peeling off the lingerie, he'd cover her body in gentle, reverent kisses and she'd be his again, his forever... but... "I don't think I should."

"I want you to stay, baby," she said clutching the back of his head. "Please... Stay here with me. I love you. I want you."

Shivering, he pushed her back on to the mattress and embraced her, the words branding into his heart like hot iron. "I love you too, Mom, but you've been through a lot tonight. Is this.. Is this really what you want?"

"Of course it is." She stroked his hair as looked into her eyes. "It took me a while to see it, that's all. Why did you stay away for so long?"

How could he tell her? "I was... afraid I would hurt you. I was blacked out that night, the night when..." he trailed off, blushing and embarrassed as his cock twitched slightly, and it was pushing against her, slotted between her thighs and obvious to both of them. He silently reminded himself that this was a terrible time to try to talk to her about THAT. "Well, I was afraid you would say no next time, and I wouldn't listen. But it's safe now. I'm on some medication, and Dr. Roberts has been counseling me, and I'm not having real blackouts anymore."

Norma was shocked. He was trying to protect her this whole time? Guilt and gratitude swam inside her with equal emotion; he was the exact opposite of her demanding, uncaring brother. Her sweet, wonderful boy had grown into this amazing man, and he wanted her, and she was so unworthy. She had to show him he had nothing to fear. "I need you," she said, pulling him down for a kiss.

His cock jumped again and he pushed it against her mound as she moaned. She was soft and pliant beneath him, and she tasted like honey and heaven, but he pulled back. "I'll stay here, Mom, but let's wait on... You're not feeling like yourself, and I don't want you to regret it."

"Please?"

He closed his eyes. "Let's see how you feel tomorrow? If you still want to tomorrow, I won't argue."

Norma nodded and moved over, pulling back the covers and settling to the side, leaving room for him.

"I don't have any pajamas," he said, swallowing.

"I don't care."

After a moment's indecision, Norman removed his trousers and sweater, unbuttoning his shirt and lying down in his boxers.

Norma covered them both up and snuggled into her son's open arms with a satisfied sigh. "I love you, Norman," she sighed, the scent of him relaxing her so much more than any amount of drink could ever accomplish. "I love you more than anything else in this world. Please stay with me."

"Of course, Mother," Norman sighed, kissing her hair. "We'll always be together."

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.*o0o*.

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To Be Continued...


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

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All right, this one is being posted before I'm sure it's ready yet again. And also yet again, you can blame ALittleTasteOfMadness; I exist to make her happy, and I'm pretty sure this chapter is going to do it. :)

REVIEW TIME!

 **Edifying** gets the prize for being the first reviewer this time! *gives you a chocolate bar* And it's such a sweet review, too! Don't worry too much. I've got an awesome group of friends and family that are getting me through, including online. I hope this chapter rocks your world just as much. ;) My darling **ALittleTasteOfMadness** , you always have the most amazing and immediate reactions to my writing, and I love it. You're a blazing light in a dark world, my love! As mentioned above, this chapter is for you! And, **Cleo** , it's like you're seeing inside my soul right now. Seriously. I was trying to juxtapose it to the first episode; this is what an older, more mature Norman would have done about Keith Summers! Exactly right.

Thank you for ALL YOUR REVIEWS! I can't thank you enough; they are the life blood that keep me writing!

Now then, total disclosure, this is mostly a smutty-smut-smut chapter, but there are some important hints in here. Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoy!

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.*o0o*.

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Norma woke feeling more refreshed and rested than she had in weeks. She guessed by t he redness behind her eyelids that it was late morning; she must have slept past her alarm. Wincing at the slight pull on her lacerations, she rolled over and reached out an arm, only to find empty sheets. Her eyes snapped open, dread in her heart until she noticed a tray on her bedside table.

It was one of the decorative serving trays from the kitchen. Norman must have found it and arranged a sweet surprise for her; there was a small glass of water, a small glass of milk, two aspirin, a packet of alkaseltzer, and a danish he must have pulled out of the box in the freezer on a small plate. To the side of the plate was a pretty bouquet of wildflowers from outside with a ribbon holding it together, and a little note hiding under the blossoms.

A little fear shot through her again as she remembered the last note he had left her, but she bravely plucked the paper from under the flowers and unfolded it.

.

 _Mother,_

 _I had to go take care of some things at Mr. Decody's shop that couldn't wait, and I wanted you to rest. I put this here in case your head hurt or your stomach was upset. I don't know how much you had to drink last night._

 _I need to stop by the farm and get my things, but I should be home before three. If you've changed your mind, it's all right. I won't push anything. It will be completely up to you where we go from here. The most important thing is that you are happy and safe, and I think you will be now._

 _In case we never speak of it again, know that I love you more than I'll ever love anyone else in this world, and that my heart is forever in your hands._

 _Love Always,_

 _Norman_

.

Folding the note again, Norma held it against her heart, willing the message under her skin where it could keep her warm and whole forever. She realized now she should never have doubted their love, should never have doubted the rightness of their unexpected connection. Fighting for so long had made her blind to what was happening within them both, but now her eyes were wide open and she was ready to accept what she truly felt for her son.

She ate half the danish and took the aspirin; her head was fine, but the cuts on her back were starting to ache. Laying back on the bed, she inhaled the sweet scent of the wildflowers. Windflowers, arrowleaf, cockles, clovers, and oxeye daisies... Despite yesterday's disturbing happenings, she felt happy, her body tingling all over with excitement.

Never, never had she felt this way about anyone. It was as though her greatest curse had become her greatest blessing, overnight.

How should she proceed? It was clear that she would have to make the overtures here; in his note, Norman had said it was her decision. She was still fairly clean from her shower the previous evening, but she ran herself a bath with rosewater and sandalwood. Sinking into the water was like cleansing herself of her former life; so often she had said that everything would be good now, but finally she believed it would.

.

.*o0o*.

.

Norman pulled his suitcases out of Gunner's trucks, shaking his hand. "Thank you so much, for everything."

"No problem, man." He was still shaken by what Norman had told him; the small falsehood that Caleb had been trying to steal from Norma and had roughed her up. "I'm so sorry about... you know..."

"It's fine. He's gone now." Norman gave him a grateful smile before turning to his home. "I'll see you around the farm?"

"You bet!" Gunner released his hand and opened his truck, climbing inside.

After the truck sped away, Norman turned back and climbed the stairs, heart beating fast. This was it; he expected that if Norma had changed her mind, things would simply go on as they always had, and he would try his best to be okay with it. Her happiness was always more important than his own. A secret, hopeful spark inside him prayed that maybe it wouldn't turn out that way...

He opened the inner door and instantly felt warmth and smelled something sweet baking. The feeling of home was overwhelming. He quickly went up the stairs, depositing his suitcases in his room to sort through later. That wasn't as important as finding his mother right now...

He rushed back down the stairs and into the kitchen, pausing as he saw that she wasn't there. He walked toward the table, standing somewhat awkwardly as he wondered where she had gone. "Mom?" he asked hesitantly, turning to look back into the sitting room before he heard light footsteps.

His mother came in through the back door, fairly glowing in a pale yellow, gauzy sundress. "Norman! You're home earlier than I thought?" She smiled brightly as she came to him, swinging the basket of herbs she carried out of the way so she could kiss his cheek.

"Are you feeling well?" he asked, carefully holding her in his arms for a moment. It seemed somehow that the cuts on her back and shoulders looked even worse today...

"I feel wonderful!" She pulled away from him and put her basket on the table before moving to the stove. "How was your day at work, sweetie?"

Watching her, Norman felt his heart plummet, sure this return to normalcy could only mean one thing. He turned and went to the parlor, sitting in the middle of the sofa and closing. He felt his chest aching and took a deep breath, forcing himself to breath evenly so he would maintain control. He told himself it would be okay; it had to be, because this was what she wanted...

"Norman?" Her voice was so close and soft that his eyes popped open, finding her standing right next to him. "What is it, baby?"

"Nothing!" He tried to smile, but he knew his voice rang false to her by the way her eyebrows dipped, a sad but understanding look on her face.

Norma laid her hand on his hair and carefully lowered herself down into his lap, a knee on either side of his hips. "I just wanted there to be something special for you tonight, and it was going to burn," she said softly, raising her other hand so she was cupping his cheeks. "It's your favorite. Apple pie."

"Oh." His voice was breathy, more desperate than he'd meant.

Norma leaned forward and pressed her forehead against his, and he shook beneath her. "I read your note," she said simply. He couldn't respond, and after a moment she kissed his lips lightly, pressure as gentle as a butterfly lighting on a flower.

He froze for a moment in hopeful wonder before his hands hesitantly moved to her hips. As soon as they were there, Norma moaned and pressed closer to him, her tongue swiping out to lick his upper lip. "Norman," she said, pulling back just enough to speak, "I still want to. I love you. This is my choice..."

"Mom?" She couldn't be serious. There was no way he was this lucky, that the universe would let him have this most precious of gifts.

She kissed him again, a little more boldly, and suddenly his brain was functioning properly, and he was clutching her against his body. It was slow and sweet, completely different from how he had imagined it. She tasted like apples and cinnamon; she must have sampled the pie filling...

The urgency was still inside him, but it was doused by the need to savor this moment, to take care of his mother and give her what she needed. He needed it just as much. His fingers smoothed over her skin, finding the hard, sealed slices on her back and shoulders, and she hissed into his mouth. He didn't stop, though, and she didn't ask him to; he needed to touch them, to reclaim this damaged part of her for the two of them.

He lingered on each, caressing them gently, and hot sting echoed through Norma's body like a slow awakening. She wanted the pain; it made her feel good, somehow, to have her son touching these hurts, and she started to moan as she enjoyed the throbbing sting.

After he had moved back to her waist, she pulled back slowly, a sweet smile on her face. "You're still wearing your coat..." She pulled the zipper down slowly, helping him out of it until it was discarded. Her nimble fingers unbuttoned his shirt, smoothly slipping inside against his heated skin as he shivered. "Are you okay?"

"Yes." He slipped one of her straps down her shoulder, and with a devilish smile she slid her arms out of he straps completely. It fell to her waist, and he saw that she wore nothing underneath. Before he could think, his hand was between them, cupping one small but firm breast, but his chagrin was stilled by the needy groan she let out. She unconsciously pushed her chest forward, bringing a hand up to push his more firmly against her. "Are you wearing anything at all under that dress?" he asked breathlessly.

As if to answer, she pushed her pelvis forward, and the damp heat he encountered through his trousers was all the response he need. "Oh, Mother," he moaned, lunging forward to latch his mouth onto her nipple.

True to her word, Norma led him through everything this time. She reached down between them and freed his aching member from it's confines, He could barely function but to growl into her skin as she lightly stroked it but she moved back, looking down between them with a delighted gaze. "You have a beautiful cock, Norman," she sighed, swiping the liquid from the tip and sucking it off her finger. "I want you inside me again..." The last was whispered, like a secret prayer, and he finally lost control.

Shoving her skirt up to her waist, he pulled her against him, and then they were sliding easily together. His mother's channel was tight and blazing around him, so much better than the lingering, dull memories of the last time. "Oh, God, Mom," he moaned, using his hands to push her more fully onto his manhood, and she was gasping with intense satisfaction over him. It was more amazing than every fantasy he'd ever had...

It felt amazing, but they were so limited in their movements. She made little thrusting motions over him, but she didn't have the best leverage, even with his hands helping her. Frustrated, Norman lifted her and laid her on the rug, pushing her knees up. "Oh, fuck, yes!" she gasped, toes curling. "Norman! So good, baby!"

He could barely think straight anymore, plunging into her just to hear her moans. He leaned forward, burying his face in her neck as he lost control. "Oh, fuck, Mother!" he blurted as he burst inside her, lightning coursing through him. She held him against her as he quaked through this climax.

As he began to calm, he became aware of the tension still inside his mother, and he felt shame coursing through him. "Mother, I'm so sorry," he murmured into her skin.

"No, honey, don't be," she began, but then he was moving down her body, kissing between her breast, above her bellybutton... "What are you doing?"

Before she could object, his two of his fingers were sliding inside her semen-slick channel, and his tongue was flattened over her bud. With a guttural oath, she ground against his tongue, hand tangling in his hair. "Oh my god, Norman, harder... hard, honey!"

He was good at taking direction, and he thrust his fingers into her faster and faster. She felt the crest building inside her, her back arching as she threw her head back. She'd been so close to coming before... and now... now...

Her legs shook on either side of his face before she suddenly screamed. "Norman, yes, oh yes- Oh, God, yes!" He felt her muscles reflexively pulsing, felt the rush of hot liquid that came over his fingers as she climaxed, and felt more relaxed himself. He gave her labia a last smooth lick and kissed back up her stomach with a satisfied smirk.

"Oh," Norma laughed, looking at his face. It was shining with wetness across his cheeks. "You certainly look proud of yourself..."

"I am," he admitted, and when he kissed her, she didn't push him away.

"Norman." He looked up at her, taking in the beautiful flush to her skin and the sparkle in her eyes. "I love you."

He held her eyes, mouth soft and gaze serious. "I love you too, Mother."

.

.*o0o*.

.

It wasn't until later that they started to wonder what they would tell Dylan. They sat close together, no longer in their proper seats at the table. They huddled together as closely as they they could around as they lazily spooned apple pie into their mouths directly out of the pie pan.

"I don't think it's a good idea to tell him anything," Norma said, licking her spoon.

"Mom, it's going to come out in the charges. He'll figure it out, what he was here to really do..." Suddenly serious, Norman gripped her hand. "I'm so sorry that I wasn't here, Mother..."

"It's not your fault," Norma admitted, gripping his hand.

"But you were right. If I had been here, it might not have gone even as far as it did. I never... I'll never leave you again," he vowed, pulling her hand against his heart. "No one will ever hurt you again if I can stop it."

With a little smile, Norma leaned forward and kissed a bit of pie crust off the corner of his mouth. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, Norman. I love you so much."

.

.*o0o*.

.

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

.

.*o0o*.

.

 _Hello, my lovelies! I am so sorry but I want to take this moment to remind my reader's that I never promised this story would end happily. You all know I would love nothing more than to see Norman and Norma live happily ever after together, but I'm not sure this is that story._

 _For my reviewers:_

 **Edifying** _, I'd be interested in hearing about your situation. Feel free to make it private if needed..._ **ALittleTasteOfMadness** _, you know it is. You have the most amazing feedback on my fanfics. I love it. Everything is for you, sweetie, don't you know?_ **Hannigram-13** _, thank you! It will be another few chapters, although we're getting towards the end. Hang on with me, and be ready for the angst!_ **Cleo** _, I'm glad to know you're with us through the end. You've been amazing!_

 _I just want to give everyone a quick reminder; I never said this would end happily. I'm not promising what will happen here, but I can promise you it won't be happily ever after. Please stay with me, none the less._

 _I am so grateful for my readers. Thank you for staying with me through this story. Here we go!_

.

.*o0o*.

.

It was dark and warm and safe, and Norma hummed as she snuggled back into the warmth of Norman's embrace. Cracking her eyes open, she saw the clock read 3:06 AM, and smiled. They had been up until midnight giggling and hanging on each other, so giddy to finally be together as they should be...

She only had a moment to wonder before she became aware of lips on her neck and an answering hum. It reminded her of the night, weeks ago now, that she had lost control of her feelings and given in. Now, instead of remembering it with shame, she let the memory flow over her, goosebumps rising all over her skin. "Norman, are you awake?"

"Mm hmm..." He loosened his arms as Norma turned to face him, then pulled her tight against him once more.

"We need to rest," she protested feebly, not really wanting to resist.

Chuckling, he buried his nose in her hair and nuzzled her ear. "Well, there's plenty of time for sleep tomorrow, isn't there?" he breathed, his young voice full of innocent love.

"Come on, honey. There's plenty of time to make love tomorrow, too. We have all the time in the world..."

She pulled back and kissed his lips chastely, and he relaxed into the mattress, head sinking into his pillow. "I like that. I plan to take advantage of every second of it."

Norma smiled and pressed her forehead against his, holding him close. "Me too."

.

.*o0o*.

.

The final stitch went easily, and Norman pulled the cotton string taut and knotted it before snipping it with small clippers. The feathers were easily patted down, and he turned the hawk back over, laying it carefully on it's back.

It's wings were spread, beak open as though it was swooping down to attack it's prey. Norman was pleased; it looked even better than he'd hoped. The only real decision left was how to mount it...

But that could wait until tomorrow, he decided, as he saw the time. He quickly and carefully placed the hawk inside a protective plastic sack and stored it on the shelf. "My mom will be here soon, Mr. Decody," he called.

He realized now that "all the time in the world" had perhaps been incorrect, seeing as he had to work and his mother had a motel to run. Still, they had arranged to meet in town after his shift so they could go to the supermarket together and plan a meal.

"No problem, Norman." The older man came around the corner. "How's Mr. James' hawk coming?"

"I'll have it done by noon tomorrow," Norman said confidently.

"All right, then, have a good evening, my boy."

Norman shrugged into his coat, grabbing his keys. It had bothered him all day that he hadn't seen Dylan around the shop at all, today or yesterday. "Hey, Mr. Decody?"

"Yes?"

"Have you seen my brother?"

The older man shook his head. "Not since yesterday. He got a call and just disappeared."

This seemed strange to Norman; after all, he'd been attached to Emma at the hip ever since he had helped her get her lung transplant. "Do you know who it was from?"

Mr. Decody thought for a moment. "No, he didn't say..."

This puzzled him, but he pulled his phone out and texted Dylan to ask how he was. He'd have an answer soon enough... "Okay. Have a good night, Mr. Decody!" He waved and left, spotting his mother just down the street.

She was leaning against her old BMW, her knee length paisley skirt blowing against her thighs in the wind of the winter's day as she checked her phone. Uncrossing her booted ankles, she reached out to him as he came to her. "Hi sweetie," she said, smiling brightly.

"Hi, Mom! Who was that?"

"Just the sheriff." She had been avoiding talking to him; who knew whether he wanted to discuss her brother, or their own relationship? "I'll call him back later."

Norman had to resist the urge to kiss her, very aware of the fact that they were out on the street in full view of everyone. Instead he gave her a hug, surreptitiously kissing her neck behind her hair. "Let's get home soon, hm?"

Norma giggled and looked into his dark blue eyes as he pulled back. "Of course, Norman... We'll get dinner and head home as soon as possible..." She kissed his cheek and hooked her arm through his, heading them into town.

.

*.o0o.*

.

"No, Caleb, you have to stay here with me!"

Dylan's father swayed on his feet, gesturing with his beer can. "You can't keep me here! I've got rights, you know!"

With a sigh, Dylan pushed Caleb back and hooked a padlock he'd brought as a precaution through the chain lock. "Romero only let me bail you out on the condition I would keep you away from town until your trial," he reminded the older man, his frustration obvious in his voice. The sheriff hadn't explained his reluctance, but had been absolutely insistent that if he saw Caleb on the streets in town or anywhere near the motel he would arrest him again immediately.

Dylan would be lying if he said that the sheriff's requirement hadn't given him pause. He knew Caleb had been charged with breaking and entering at his mother's residence. He couldn't dismiss the is father grabbed him by the front of his shirt, face inches from his own. "You can't keep me here."

"Why do you need to get out?" Dylan asked, his face blank.

Caleb's face crumpled, his grip on Dylan's shirt slackening. "It's Norma... I need to..." A small sob escaped him, and he released his son completely, falling against he wall behind him, incoherently weeping.

Dylan shoved the key into his pocket, "I know you.. I know you have feelings for her. But she isn't interested." He reached forward, trying to bring his father to lay on the bed.

Caleb socked Dylan in the jaw, and before he fished inside Dylan's pocket and extracted the key. Caleb's skull connected with Dylan's forehead, and he fell stunned to the floor, barely conscious of his father's actions.

Before he could react, Caleb had had unlocked the door and escaped, closing it firmly behind him. Dylan felt his heavy eyes closing, unable to hang on to his consciousness...

.

.*o0o*.

.

To Be Continued...

.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

.

.*o0o*.

.

I'm just going to say I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, and I hope this doesn't destroy your soul. Still dedicated to my sweet love **ALittleTasteOfMadness** , even though she is dreading this. I write all this Soul Bates for her (and for me a little too). Just reread Closer after if you need to, honey, it's adorable and safe.

Only two reviewers this time. **ALittleTasteOfMadness,** you're going to make it. grab a box of tissues, take a deep breath, and go! And message me when you're done so I can comfort you as soon as I wake up. **Cleo,** I'm glad you concur! Hopefully this is the penultimate chapter the story needs.

This is ending a little faster than I thought. I'm going to push for two more chapters, but it might be only one. All I can promise you is that this is not the end, and you'll probably cry a lot through the last parts.

I'm so, so sorry. Please leave feedback, even if it's that this was terrible.

.

.*o0o*.

.

"You don't have to make _everything_ from scratch, Mom," Norman said, pulling two pounds of butter from the shelf. "I saw the pre-made puff pastry right down the aisle."

Neatly crossing butter off their list, Norma paused to pat his cheek with bright smile for him. "Of course I do. I told you I love cooking for you." She seemed to start forward to kiss him, but thought better of it and gave him a slightly sad smile before turning. "Come on, let's finish up here. We just need some filet mignon, and we can head home."

Norman surveyed their cart; flour, butter, mushrooms... Mother had suggested beef wellington for tonight, one of his favorites, and she'd insisted on buying a bottle of merlot to have with it. It was clear that she was going out of her way to make this a special occasion, and he couldn't help but feel some excitement too. It was like... a date. As close to a date as they would ever get, most likely, and he wanted to make it special for her too. He put his hand in his pocket, fiddling with the simple gold chain and locket he had bought her this morning before work with their names engraved on the front, wondering how he could surprise her with it...

Pausing for a moment, Norma checked her phone, frowned, and put it in her purse.

"Romero again?" When she nodded, he added, "Shouldn't we answer?"

"He probably just wants us to come down to the station for more questions, and I'm not in the mood," The cart stopped in front of the steaks, and Norma stooped to pick up a package with two neat little steaks inside. "Here, honey, what do you think of these?"

"Norman?"

He looked away from his mother, eyes lighting on a shorter, dark-haired woman he most definitely recognized. "Dr. Roberts!" he exclaimed, pleased. He paused for a moment, looking towards his mother, who had her eyes narrowed. It was clear that she was unsure of the psychiatrist. "Mom, this is Dr. Arlene Roberts, the doctor I told you about." He watched her face unravel, and she no longer seemed concerned, so he turned back to the doctor. "Dr. Roberts, this- this is my mother, Norma Bates."

"Hello! So nice to meet you, Norma!" She took Norma's hand and shook it briefly.

"And you Dr. Roberts..."

"Please, call me Arlene." She paused and looked searchingly into Norman's eyes. "How are things going?"

Norman knew exactly what she was asking, of course, and he stuttered slightly for a moment. "Oh- ah- well, we're getting ready to fix a nice dinner and... have some alone time at home," he said, taking his mother's hand significantly and looking into her eyes.

"Oh, I am so happy to hear it!" She turned and and looked around as a man came up behind her, and Norman startled to recognize the man from the pictures. "This is my husband, James," Arlene said quietly. "Did Norman tell you about him?"

"Yes," Norma said, reaching out to shake his hand as well. "Lovely to meet you!"

"And you," he said. James seemed every bit as jolly in real life as he had appeared in the pictures, and the way he wrapped his arm around his niece spoke volumes to how he felt about her. "I'd love to get to know you both better. Maybe we could meet up for cocktails sometime?"

"That's... a little unusual," Arlene protested. "Norman might not be comfortable."

"No, I don't mind. I mean... most of the reason I needed the counseling part of it is over, so it's just a matter of medication now." He felt his chest puffing up with victory, but he tried to quell it. "I'd love to spend some time with you both. Maybe we could have some things to share."

"Yeah, that sounds great," Norma said eagerly. She came forward and hugged Arlene tightly, shocking all of them. "Thank you," she said earnestly. "Thank you for helping Norman, and for... you know..."

The psychiatrist froze for a moment before returning the embrace. "It was nothing!"

Norma moved back and smiled again. "Well, we've got to get going," she nearly sang.

"Oh, uh, right!" Norman put his arm around her waist. "I'll talk to you later, Dr. Roberts!" He waited until they'd moved into the frozen foods section before he stopped his mother. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said, staring at his shoes for a moment. "I mean, she knows all about us, and it just makes me a little nervous..."

Norman pulled her to him, taking advantage of their relative isolation to bury his nose in her hair and kiss her neck. "I told you, she's the one who convinced me that we could be together. There's no reason to be afraid."

"I know, honey, I know." Kissing his cheek, she pulled away, grabbing a small tub of whipped cream as she winked at him. "For later..."

Norman flushed at the implication as they headed towards the checkout.

.

.*o0o*.

.

The sun was starting to set as they exited the market, a strange quiet in the street as the evening crowds migrated to the restaurants and bars closer to the center of town. There were only a few stragglers out on the streets, so she wasn't surprised to feel him lean near as they turned the corner into the parking lot and place a kiss on her cheekbone.

"I love you, Norman," she said sweetly, turning to look at him.

An inhuman sob caught their attention, and Norma stopped, gripping the handle of the cart so tightly her knuckles creaked. "Caleb." Her brother was stumbling out of Dylan's truck, face scrunched and tears on his cheeks. She felt Norman force her fingers off the cart, and then he was standing partially in front of her. She gripped his shirt for strength, and realization sunk in as she thought of all the calls she had ignored from Romero... "He let you out? Romero _let you out_?"

"We're supposed to be together, Norma!" The blonde man's voice was broken.

Norma pressed her forehead into Norman's shoulder blade. "You were right... you were right, Norman..."

"Nobody wants anyone to get hurt," Norman said slowly. "Why don't you put that away?"

With a little thrill of fear, Norma looked up and saw that Caleb was holding a gun. "Oh, God, Caleb, what are you doing? What are you _doing_?"

"We're supposed to be together, and he's keeping you away from me." Voice coarse and hard, he went from pitiful to determined instantly. "It's his fault, all his goddamn fault, you fucking little- shit!" He raised the gun, pointing it at Norman's chest, and Norma's blood ran cold. She wouldn't survive losing him.

"Look, you can do whatever you want to me, just leave Mom alone," she heard her son begging, and she nearly silently followed it with a protest, unable to believe what was happening.

She couldn't let Norman die. It would be intolerable... Taking a deep breath, she raised her voice. "Help us, somebody help us!" she screamed as loudly as she could.

There was an audible click, a hammer being pulled, and Norma turned back with horror. "Once you're gone, it'll all be like it was again," Caleb reiterated, and Norma knew she was out of time, despite the sound of running feet behind her.

Norma shoved her son aside, and heard a loud bang; she felt her body jerk backward and a burning numbness over her left breast. Time seemed to slow down, the thumping of her heart in her ears louder, then suddenly weaker.

What was all this red on her new white paisley dress? It would be ruined.

 _"Mother!"_

She willed her body to turn towards Norman, but her knees buckled and she fell, barely aware of being caught in his arms. She was tired, and shivering. She wanted to curl up in his embrace and go to sleep. Memories swam in her head; holding him when he was a baby, the way he used to hold her head against his chest when he was eight and she gave him a good night cuddle, the day he'd killed his own father to save her, the gentle touch of his hands on her hips as he moved inside her...

Now, Norman looked scared, so devastated. What could make him look like that? His mouth was moving, but she couldn't hear his words. "Norman," she whispered, and her arms wouldn't work. She couldn't lift them to wrap around him, to comfort him and wipe that expression off his face. Maybe she just needed to sleep, just a little, to get her strength back. She was so tired and so cold...

In fact, she could barely see him now, could only just see the tears rolling down his cheeks as his face seemed to fade into the gray encroaching on her vision. The last thought was of the first time she'd held him, after he'd been born, so bright and aware, already seeing through to the truth of her. Her sweet Norman... sweet baby...

.

.*o0o*.

.

Norman caught Norma as she collapsed, face falling as he watched the blood visibly gushing out of her chest like wine gushing from a barrel on it's end. "Mother! Mother! No!"

She looked at him, a kind of tired peace coming over her features. Her fingers twitched, but wouldn't move, and there was so much blood, too much. It was flowing out, unbelievably fast, forming a puddle- but it was really slowing now, the pumping in her veins weak as it had little to distribute. He put his hand over the hole that lead to her heart and pushed, trying in vain to keep it inside her. "Don't leave me, Mom," he sobbed, his tears mixing with the crimson that covered them both. She was so pale, not her usual pretty peach color, but almost blue... "Don't, please... please... Oh God..."

Her lips trembled, a little breath escaped her and she went limp in his arms.

His terrible scream echoed throughout the parking lot as he clutched her still body against him. Face contorting, he shook her, desperate to find some sign. "Wake up! WAKE UP!"

He continued to hold her, sobbing, even as he felt a presence next to him. "She's gone, Norman," came Dr. Roberts' voice, but he barely heard it, or felt the light touch on his back. "Come on, sweetie," she continued, a little hitch in her voice. 'Come on..." But he wouldn't move, he couldn't. As soon as he let go of his mother, she would really be gone.

"Norman." He recognized that voice. He gently laid Norma on the ground and stood, wiping his tears with a bloody hand as he looked for her. "Norman!"

He found her standing a little ways away, behind Caleb, who was kneeling on the asphalt and crying as well. James and a grocery store worker were holding him down, the gun kicked away from him and gleaming in the evening sun. She looked down on her brother in disgust. "You did this. If you'd killed him when I said, none of this would have happened."

Catching Mother's eye, he let go of his sanity.

"You know what you have to do."

"Yes, Mother."

Lunging forward, he picked up the gun and aimed at Caleb's head, advancing. "You killed her," he screamed, "You killed her!"

"It was supposed to be you!" Caleb said it like it was an apology, like Norman would appreciate that he'd been the intended target, and for once they were in agreement.

"Norman, no!" Arlene said, and but he didn't spare her a glance aiming at Caleb's stomach. He fired off one shot, and the others all backed away as the older man fell back with a groan. Norman advanced, pocketing the gun as he stood over this most abhorrent of men.

"That's not enough, baby, and you know it." He looked at Mother again, and she was glaring into his soul with her icy blue eyes. "Finish it."

Falling onto his injured uncle, he wrapped his hands around his throat and squeezed, cruelly enjoying the fear he saw in his face. "I should have done this a long time ago," he grunted, lifting his hands so he could slam Caleb's head back into the ground with the sound of a melon hitting pavement.

He could hear the protests around him, but no one stopped him. He pounded Caleb's head into the ground until his face was grotesquely slack, until his brains were sloshing out of his skull, until he heard Mother calling to him again. "That's good, sweetie. That's very, very good."

Standing, he turned to her, and she reached out for him. They came together, and he looked into her eyes, trying to forget the empty look he'd seen in them before. "What now?"

"Now we go find the others, Norman," she said comfortingly, kissing him gently.

"Of course, Mother."

They walked off together, just the few blocks it took to get to the forest, and no one stopped them.

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.*o0o*.

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To Be Continued...


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

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All right, my sweets, this is the second to the last chapter. There is just a little more of this Greek tragedy before it's done. I'm glad the last chapter didn't scare off my loyal readers, lol.

 **ALittleTasteOfMadness** , I think the total disgrace is coming in this chapter... But I'm glad to know I haven't killed your spirit yet... ;) I can't believe you forgot about Caleb, but it makes sense as to why you couldn't guess what was going to happen! Thank you for forgiving me, my love. **Edifying** , no worries! I love your reviews, but I know you're still reading. I hope your day wasn't too bad. I was really trying to set you guys up for the fall; I hope it wasn't too much. Thank you for your kind words! **Cleo** , you echo my feelings completely; what a comfort Mother must have been in those moments after Norma died. I'm so glad the scene lived up to your expectations. :) I hope you'll be pleasantly surprised with where we go from here.

 ** _**SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT**_** I promised ALittleTasteOfMadness a fluffy smut piece in return for the horror and sorrow of the end of this fic, so I'll be posting that TOMORROW as her Christmas Gift. Keep your eyes out for it! It'll be a nice, brief respite from this.

Now then, more gore and horror coming up, but it won't be too bad. Don't forget to review - I love reviews so much... Enjoy!

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Gunner's body was sprawled grotesquely on the ground, surrounded tiny hemp seedlings. Dark, wine colored liquid was beading up on the dry dirt surrounding them before slowly sinking into the cracks in the earth, and Norman looked down with apathy on his friend's fresh corpse.

Killing Gunner hadn't been the plan. Mother had brought him here to gather the weapons that they both knew Dylan and Caleb kept there. It hadn't been his first choice, but his only choice, when Gunner had frantically confronted him and started asking questions.

 _Are you okay?_

 _Holy shit, is that **your** blood?_

 _Put down the guns, I'll find something to help..._

 _We should call someone, the police... What are you doing?_

One word from Mother and Norman had cut him down. He felt what might have been remorse somewhere deep inside, but he cut it off as he heard her behind him. "He didn't mean anything, Norman. There's nothing in this world that matters besides you and me." He felt her hands slide around his waist, settling on his slim hipbones. "The most important thing is that you kill them, Norman. Kill all of them. They deserve it."

"Yes, Mother." He placed his hands over hers briefly, a tiny sob escaping him as he had a flash of his mother, covered in scarlet blood, eyes blank and soulless. The most horrible dream... "Oh, God..."

"I'm here, Norman. I'm here."

His muscles all relaxed as he felt her hands stroking his stomach, felt her holding him tight. He turned and kissed her. He trembled in her arms, his mind a whirl of love, horror, and madness. "I thought... I thought I'd lost you... How are you here? You were... you're..."

"I'll always be here for you, Norman."

He let her kiss his forehead, his cheek, and pulled away, sparing one last look for Gunner. "He''ll stay here. The seedlings will grow from him," he observed, feeling a sense of rightness coming over him. _Dust to dust, ashes to ashes..._

"That's right, baby," Mother said quietly. "No more time for sadness now. We have work to do."

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.*o0o*.

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"How may I help you?" Regina waited for a moment, not looking up from her phone until the silence became a little too long to ignore, and she was quite good at ignoring it. "I said how may I..." Glancing up, she came face to face with a blood soaked, blank-faced Norman Bates, his blue eyes seeming to stare straight through her. She stood from her seat in shock. " _Oh my God!_ "

"Of course, Mother," he said calmly, aiming a small handgun through the holes in the bulletproof glass. With a small pop, Regina had fallen, bleeding out of her head on the office floor with barely a wheeze. He shot the electronic lock and pulled the door open.

Mother spoke in an uncharacteristically quiet voice. "Be careful, sweetie. I think I hear someone coming..."

His gun was already raised when Deputy Walker came around the corner, and he shot him directly in the eye. The deputy exhaled, a little noise of shock, and dropped. Norman examined the twitching body blankly as he felt his mother's hand on his back, watching as the life left him.

Walker deserved it. They all deserved it. The whole department had failed them, had failed his mother, and now they would pay.

They moved together through the entry way, Mother creeping close behind Norman with an arm around his waist and her voice whispering seductively in his ear. Two others came around the corner ahead, but Norman was ready. He shot Jeffcoat and Lin down easily; they were more casualties on the path to his goal. The halls were empty, but he remembered the path to Romero's office and strode purposefully towards it.

"Norman," Mother whispered behind him, her whole form nearly molding against his back as he slowed. "There's no chance Alex didn't hear the shots before. He'll be ready. Here."

She came around and pressed him up against he wall with her body, guiding his gun hand up so he was aiming right past the doorway. From their angle, he would see the sheriff first and have the upper hand, but Mother was distracting him terribly. Her body pushed into his sensually, her lips sweetly nibbling at his ear and neck. "You can do this, baby," she nearly moaned into his ear. His arousal was tinged with the horror and grief he could only barely remember, but regardless he trembled and silently gasped as she ground against him.

In the endless silence, they waited. He was unsure Romero was even in his office, but every time he wanted to move or check, she waylaid him, urging him to wait. "He'll be out soon," she murmured, her hand now inside his pants and stroking him. "Just a little longer, Norman. Just a little longer..."

Just as she finished speaking, he focused on the door, and he saw Romero emerge. It took him a moment too long to see Norman, and the shot rang out. The sheriff dropped his gun and fell backward, raising his hand to his chest with a look of shock.

Mother moved back, slipping her arms around his waist again as he approached the object of his wrath. "It's his fault," she hissed, clinging to him. Norman looked down on Romero with hate, feeling stronger and clearer than he had since he'd been trying to save Norma's life.

"Norman," the sheriff gasped, "Stop, wait - I know you're upset, I do. I tried to warn Norma he was out..."

"You let Mother's rapist out and he attacked her," he said flatly.

"I tried to warn you," the sheriff plead, desperate, "I couldn't keep him when the judge assigned bail and your brother paid it!"

Norman stopped, shocked horror blooming in his chest. Dylan... Dylan had caused this? Vision blurring, he staggered, only staying up because of Mother's strong presence. "It's his fault," Mother hissed behind him. "Dylan was always bad news. Finish Alex off and we'll go find Dylan."

"Norman- Norman, wait-"

Norman straddled the sheriff and wrapped his hands around Romero's neck. This time, the rage was quieter, a gentle current, almost soothing as he squeezed tighter and tighter. He relished the panic in Romero's face, the way his body flailed as his oxygen depleted. "You killed her," he growled, feeling Mother' fingers on his scalp, stroking him comfortingly while he choked the life out of the man below him.

Then Romero was gone, and there was only one other person left to find.

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.*o0o*.

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Norman looked to his employer's shop as Mother strode forward and glared in the window. "His truck is right there, he has to be in here," she said harshly. "Come on."

Acting on autopilot at her words, he opened the door and moved through the lower level, finding the stairs up to Emma's room. He was barely aware of moving, listening to Mother's soothing tones. "Just one more, Norman, and then you can rest..."

Norman didn't think, just burst into Emma's room, where the two of them stood suddenly. A little nudge of awareness tugged at him as he saw Emma without her oxygen, as they haltingly moved toward him, both horrified.

"Norman!" Dylan cried, starting forward. "What happened? Who's blood is-"

Dylan's voice cut off and Emma shrieked as Norman slammed him against the wall, the cold barrel of a gun pressing into his temple. "What are you doing?" Dylan asked, horrified.

"You let him out. You paid to get him out," Norman hissed, nearly losing control as he shouted in his brother's face.

Dylan was silent, mind racing as he tried to process what Norman had said. "Caleb?"

 _"He killed her!"_ Norman shouted, little flecks of spit landing on Dylan's cheeks.

Dylan's expression fell, horror sliding over his features. "No, someone would have called, someone would have told me..."

"I'm telling you," Norman said, hissing.

"He still doesn't believe you," mother droned over Emma's scared exclamations.

Norman shoved the gun harder against Dylan's head, snarling. "This is her blood! He shot her, Caleb shot her." Then, all noise in the room fell back as he processed the words. "He... shot her..."

Norma was dead.

He had held her in his arms as she died. She was gone, and nothing was going to bring her back.

He was alone.

It was Dylan's fault, and that was true, but... but... Norma wouldn't want him to do this.

"Kill him, Norman!" Mother shouted, coming up behind him again. Her hand smoothed up his arm, molding over his hand where it held the gun against Dylan's hand. "He deserves it. We could have been happy, and he ruined it all!"

"He didn't mean to," Norman said desperately.

He barely heard Dylan's next words. "Emma, get out of here!"

"That bitch is to blame too," Mother hissed, "She's next."

It was then that Norman really began to snap out of it. "No, Emma... she didn't do anything!" The his grip slackened as he felt Mother move to the side, and he looked into her eyes. "My mother wouldn't want Emma to die, and she wouldn't want me to kill Dylan either!"

Dylan said something that Norman couldn't hear over the roaring in his ears, and Mother's shrieks. "You fucking kill them Norman! They deserve it!"

"No!" He wrenched the gun away from Dylan and turned, holding his head in his hands. "You're not real... I know you're not!"

"Give me the gun, Norman," Dylan said quietly.

Turning, Norman laid his bloodshot eyes on his brother; the blonde boy was breathing heavy, hand shaking as he held it out palm up. Thoughts whirled through him, becoming more and more chaotic, as Mother's voice echoed around him. "No, no. No!" Norman pushed his way past Dylan and ran out, down the stairs and into he street.

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.*o0o*.

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To Be Continued... just once more.

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	15. Epilogue

Epilogue

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This is the conclusion to this surprising and devastating story.

But first, reviews. **ALittleTasteOfMadness** , you know how I treasure your hate-love, LMAO. I truly hope this last installment moves you, and then it will be fluffier stuff for a while. Oh, **Edifying** , I'm so humbled and flattered. I don't think I'm that good, I'm just compelled to write this stuff! Hourly this is as gut wrenching for you as it was for me, lol. **Cleo** , I'm glad, I was looking for a little shock! You're right, Dylan will need to live with his guilt. I don't wish him I'll in real life, but the fic made him am unwitting bad guy of sorts.

There will be another authors note at the bottom. Here we go!

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Norman couldn't see her, not from this far.

As he peered around the edge of the tree, he could see the small crowd gathered around the grave, the black car that had brought his mother's body to the cemetery. He couldn't look for long, or he'd risk being seen. He was waiting for them to leave.

Falling back against the tree, he slid into a sitting position, letting the scratching of the bark keep him focused. He wrapped his hands around his knees and pulled them to his chest, burying his face in the rusty red of the dried blood that was still on his legs after four days. It was Norma's blood, and it was the closest he could come to her until now.

After leaving Dylan and Emma, he had rushed to the motel, knowing with all the police dead that it would take some time for anyone to come looking for him. He felt sick, thinking of all the people that were dead because of him, thinking of sweet Gunner who had died because of his kindness. He took Norma's pearls and a scarf that smelled of her perfume before going to the bathroom to retrieve his medicine.

Without it, he would be plagued with an even greater amount of visitations from the Mother in his head, and he didn't want her anymore. He didn't want to be afraid that he might kill at any time, and he couldn't live with his guilt now that he knew what he'd done under Mother's influence.

Thinking of just that, he took out the bottle and chewed three more tablets. It didn't matter anymore what the long term effects would be.

Nothing mattered anymore.

He listened to the monotony he assumed was the minister, waiting until the litany stopped before he looked again, vibrating with fear and great need. The few who attended where moving away... it would only be a few moments now...

The timing had to be just right. He glanced around the tree again, and saw that most of the crowd was moving out. Hand gripping the gun he had tucked in his belt, he poised to move forward.

As soon as the crowd had retreated, he rushed towards the gravesite, occasionally hiding behind a gravestone to be sure. His mother's coffin had been lowered, but not covered yet. He jumped into the grave, standing on the lower part of the coffin and hesitate before pulling up the lid.

What would he find? His mother's dead body, of course, but what would it mean? Would it break him?

He was already so broken.

Bracing himself, he lifted the lid. There she was, just as golden and resplendent as she had been in life. He fell to his knees as he gazed upon her, his mind swimming.

"Norman, what are you doing?"

Looking up, Norman found Mother peering at him over the edge of the enclosure. He pulled out his pills and chewed a few more, desperate. "Get out of here. You aren't real," he said, reaching forward to stroke his real mother's cold face.

"Get out of this hole. We have more to do."

He was able to completely ignore her, moving so he could pull the bottom section of the coffin open as well. "Please leave," he said, laying down with his dead mother.

There was blessed silence as he fumbled, rearranging her cold body until he could lay slightly to the side of her, testing his head on her shoulder. "Norman, I would never want you to do this," he heard her say.

"I can't- I can't live in this world without-" Hesitating, he forced himself to grasp hold of reality. "My mother is dead," he said, the words shattering inside him as he spoke. "My real mother is who I want, and she is gone forever."

He closed his eyes, and felt her leaning near. "I always loved you. You know that, right?"

"Yes. I love you too." He nestled down against his mother's body, pulling down the bottom part of the coffin to cover their legs.

Fumbling, Norman pulled the lid down over them, and waited; he was alone, finally, with the only person who had ever truly loved him. After a few minutes, the thud of dirt landing on the top met his ears, loud and soothing. This was it... there was no coming back. Soon he would be with her.

Silence reigned around them. He used his cell phone to illuminate the small space, pressing the dozens of voicemails she had left him. Her voice was a balm to him, despite his sorrow. He heard her say, time and again, that she loved him, heard her beg him to come home. Norma had been his most precious gift; she had truly seen the worst in him, and had every right to be terrified, to abandon him.

He knew she never would have. Instead, she chose to try to help and protect him. Without her, he would never be whole again.

He relaxed against his mother and pulled his gun carefully out, examining it in the diffuse light of his phone screen. He kissed her cool lips one last time. "Mother," he said, looking at her angelic face as he raised the gun to his temple. "I'll be home soon."

His finger moved, there was a brief moment of thundering pain...

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.*o0o*.

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Norman was in a bright, fragrant measure. It was warm, the sky was blue, and his Norma was by his side, her head on his shoulder. "I missed you," she said.

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Fin.

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For anyone interested, the original version of this reversed their positions. Norman would have died, and then Norma would have found a way to Die with him. I ended up going this direction instead because when I got to that point, the story wanted to reverse it. :) Thank you so much for reading! It's been quite the ride! Cheers until next time!


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